


Dream Prison

by matchalattewritter



Series: Dream Prison [1]
Category: vampire - Fandom, werewolf - Fandom
Genre: Demons, Gay Character, Gay Sex, M/M, Multi, Murder Mystery, Small Towns, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, djinn, gay horror, gay murder mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:35:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29305080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matchalattewritter/pseuds/matchalattewritter
Summary: In a Town called Wolf Creek, supernatural creatures live among humans in secret. Order is maintained through the Compromise, a magical binding spell that protects all species from the outside world as long as all live in harmony.When a bus filled with corpses drives into town that peace is shattered. That one act of malice sets in motion a series of events that will test the bonds of all who live in the town. Tests not all will survive.For David Donnelly, a werewolf on a task force dedicated to keeping the peace and the secret of supernatural creatures existence. Keeping this situation from the humans, while finding the killer is a time bomb waiting to explode. Add to that the presence of an annoyingly handsome and argumentative Witch named Jon Redding who has knowledge of the murders. It's enough to make his head spin. But all of this pales in comparison to raising his 16 year old sister left to him after his parents died a year before.As the body count rises and the attacks escalate he will need every friend and enemy alike to survive.
Relationships: Vampire/Werewolf - Relationship, demon/human - Relationship
Series: Dream Prison [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2152425
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - The Hunger and The Fear

In life people work on scheduled moments that allow them a sense of peace. That peace is something they don't think about as they go through their days. The delicious cup of coffee with sugar and creme in the morning filling them with dreamed up energy to get through the first half. The lunch hour during a work day to allow their minds to focus on the millions of things appearing on the dozens upon dozens of colorful social media apps on their smartphones. Plans after work giving them the motivation to live through a thankless bosses venting of heinous statements. All these moments together create a peace that carries a person through the endless procession of days. If a person were to look at their lives this way they could maybe, imagine a string of pearls tied together by the hours of their lives In between one peaceful moment to the next. What if the string tying those moments together was pulled out from the pearls. Each bead of peace would fall to the ground and slide away from each other leaving that person in a state of unrest, a shattered peace.

It started with a whisper on a cool summer breeze as twenty two year old Dresha Martin walked down Saint. St in the bustling downtown area of Seattle. The words were soft, unintelligible to her as she walked on to work. But she had paused, turned to look back at the dozens of pedestrians behind her. Seeing no one taking in an interest in her she carried on.

Gleaming skyscrapers towered over the pedestrians like Greek Gods standing proud. Hundreds of people worked day in and day out inside them.  
Their jobs secure by nepotism and merit from hard work and she a temp at one of the many dot com businesses. Unlike her family she didn't mind being a temp, she romanticized it to being a ghost. She was present at every meeting, her banging body dressed in thrift store clothes she cut, sewed, remade into hip dresses and blouses that people marveled over. Dresha had an eye for fashion and a quick wit that allowed her to create elaborate lies about herself. Her hair one day was a deep violet, the next a dark crimson red that complimented her pale skin and bright green eyes.

"You have to give me your stylists number," her boss of that week would say and Dresha would smile and nod confidently without saying a word.

Her eyes on the woman's watching her acceptance of Dresha's body language but never did Dresha verbally commit to anything. Together they would look at the women with their full time jobs. They would compare their beauty to the others mundane faces and demure gray pant suits. Dresha was never surprised when the boss of that week would say something dismissive of them. Something rude that none of the girls or women who worked so hard to look and appear like they belonged in the room would hear. It was those remarks that made Dresha never want to be hired into jobs he temped at. It was human of her bosses to believe that sharing the moment of cutting someone down solidified a bond between the two of them. Dresha never felt that connection with her bosses, she would watch them. Taking cues from their bodies on how she should act.

So she never went to bars with the others, she sat at a cubicle she as assured was hers if she wanted and worked. Her work was flawless, whether it was data entry or programming. Her fingers flew over the keys, her eyes trained on the lines of code flowing from her keystrokes.

Sometimes men stood beside her seat talking at her but never with her. She never talked back at all, she didn't want any form of emotional connection to these men who spent hours in gyms. Dressed in Hugo Boss suits, smelled like the inside of clothing stores and always had an invisline somewhere close by. It wasn't that she had no interest in them, often they looked like men who offered good lives, or good sex she couldn't be sure. On her lunch breaks, as she ate her Greek Yogurt with granola and fruit she would think about their smiles, the dimples, that nice beard, or a bulge or butt. Dresha would have on a pair of bright pink Beats over ear headphones and spoon her yogurt and imagine what it would be like to stand at a punk concert with these men. She would let the rapid fire drumming and angular guitar fill her body with a power only music could give.

She would taste the bitter sweet taste of the yogurt and granola and fruit while her dreamed up self would be in a smoky club. The club would be packed with hipsters with faces she saw on streets or at Whole Foods. Ted, the small Middle Eastern man with gorgeous dark eyes who always wore ties wrong was beside her swinging his arms, she would head bang and scream her fury into the maelstrom of bodies and sound. Then the song would end and she would turn off the music and head back to her borrowed cubicle. This was her life. These 10 hour days, five days a week. She would walk to the bus, her eyes on every hobo, every person close to her as she walked. On the bus she would sit as close to the bus driver as possible with her dark brown leather bag clutched to her chest.

Only on paydays did she buy a new album off Amazon, wait for it to arrive and once the record was on the turntable she would sit with her cats on her floor next to her iKEA bought couch. She bought it for the rare occasions she had guests of any kind over. She preferred the hardwood floor of her studio apartment, if she were honest the couch belonged to her three black cats Zoe, Mordecai, and Felix. They laid around her while Grizzly Bear filled the small space with all over the place guitar and bass and that steady drum beat. Ed Droste"s soulful deep voice made her soul dance inside her skin and bone. It was a Sunday, the album "Painted Ruins" was spinning on the turntable.

Dresha lay on the cool hardwood, dressed in only a pair of green boys underwear that fit her large hips perfectly. A half smoked joint had gone out in a vanilla candle she had been using as an ashtray. Her large voluptuous breasts rose and fell as she breathed deep breaths. She had smoked too much on an empty stomach, her body felt numb and overly sensitive at the same time. It was like she was in a warm bath but was dry in the water all the same.

The feeling was a rolling sensation, she was conscious of her blood moving through her veins, of the stillness of her body. The mere turning of her head to the left felt like she was falling slowly through the floor of her apartment in slow motion. A soft childish giggle escaped her lips at the feeling of heaviness as the music burst into a loud den of sounds and voices that made her think of Animal Collective.

While she was thinking of the different sounds playing and raging with her high, the chipped white painted latch on the window turned of it's own accord. She laughed as she masochistically shook her head from side to side, the feeling of her body being thrown from side to side made her nauseous and giddy at the same time. The window pane slowly slid up the seal until the window was open. A breeze of cold air snaked its way into the post modern apartment and run first over her small tattooed feet. Then it moved up her slender, smooth legs like hands caressing her skin as a lover would. Dresha rolled onto her back as the breeze continued up to her breasts. The chill tightening over her chest and circling her head stealing her breath. Her blue hair whipped around her like snakes in a state of panic and fury.

Dresha's mind took longer to feel the wrongness of the situation. She couldn't grasp the concept of sentient wind, the dryness of her mouth was painful. Her lips opened in a perfect O as she tried in vain to draw in oxygen but the air whipped past her stealing all she could have breathed, all she could think about was that she was going to die. She could feel her heart slamming against her chest painfully. It felt as if it would burst with her panic as fast it was beating. The organ was like a humming bird in the cage of her ribs. Her lungs burned as if on fire with the need for oxygen. She made a fist, her nails digging into her palms, a silent scream rose up in her chest, rushed up her throat and up into the air stolen by that same wind.

As suddenly as the wind came it was gone. Dresha sat up gasping for air, her mouth open as she greedily gasped for air. Her blue hair hung around her in tendrils, she swiped it back from her wet eyes as she tried in vain to comprehend what happened. Raised as a Witch since birth, she had been raised to identify all forms of Magic, to feel their energies and understand their intent/ As tears from the dangerous air fell down her cheeks and into her dimples the feeling of pure malice prickled across her skin raising goosebumps on her thin forearms. Someone had intended to torture her with their wind magic.

Rising from the ground, she ran across the hardwood floor to the direction she had felt the breeze blow in from and stood bare foot and bare chested in her kitchen. The open window caused the soft gauzy white curtains to billow and sway before her. The sight mocked her, someone had opened it from the outside in spite of the lock she rarely ever turned. That same someone had used invisible hands to raise it and allow that murderous gale in to what end?

Remembering her nudity she walked away from the window before the teen boys next door saw more of her than she ever wanted. The soft plod of her bare feet on the floor calmed her as she held herself tight and moved down the short bare hallway into her bedroom.

The room looked like one a teenage girl would have instead of a twenty two year old woman. Posters of 1980's slasher films were tacked to the walls, a bright pink stereo she had had imported from Japan sat on her bookshelf that was filled with historical romance novels. An old fashioned chest of drawers stood taking op a fourth of the room open with different blouses and stockings hanging from open drawers.

Discarded clothes and open spell books lay on many surfaces, it hadn't been the wind that had done this. It was just her way of living, at temp jobs she was prim and proper and well organized. Her home was a temple to her youthful chaos. Sliding a three size too big BTS touring shirt from the "Love Yourself" tour over her thin frame she heard the sound of Halsey's "Without Me" play the chorus from among her bed sheets. After a few moments of digging she found her lime green Iphone 11 and saw her mother's image on the caller ID.

Grimacing internally she swiped left and put the large phone to her ear and before she could find a way to say hello her mother shouted

"Are you alright! Have you called the High Counsel of Seattle?" the shrill Boston thick accented voice of her mouth rang out from the slender phone. Dresha held it away from her ear out of fear to be driven deaf.

"Helen I'm fine, whatever it was just wanted to scare me,. No I didn't call the Counsel and don't you do so either, ok?" Dresha said as he sat among jackets and shirts on her bed and looked at the timid tiny black cat who had taken refuge in the closet. She wagged her fingers at the cat who cautiously exited the drawers and clothes and nuzzled along one of Dresha's bare calf. The high, Dresha was still feeling had caused her to focus on the small black cat with it's storm colored eyes and forget she was on the call at all.

"Sorry Helen, I was zoning out thinking about it. What were you saying," Dresha asked as she looked at the wall across from her. It was blank, the one section of her room that wasn't covered in photos or band posters. Her therapist had suggested that she create a space in her life that was blank and to focus on that when everything was too much. Today was that day, her tears wouldn't stop falling bitterly as she felt the wind on her skin. It was only the memory but it was enough to chill the blood in her veins.

"I was saying why haven't you warded your damn cave. Couldn't you move home and live with me and your father, if only for a while. We would even take your cats." Helen said against the sound of ice in a glass clinking and Dresha smiled wondering what drink had been in the glass before. A martini, a screwdriver or her father's personal favorite, a long island iced tea. The truth was she hadn't applied any magical security to her apartment because she hadn't thought she would ever need them. It was one of the first things young witches were taught, and something she had never thought she would ever need.

"You and Al have enough going on without me there, so pass." Dresha said as she spied a pack of cigarettes on the ground. She leaned down and scooped it up and grabbed a pair of shorts as she walked back to the living room.

"Can you not make this another we don't have time for you conversation. This is about your safety, you're our only daughter and you still haven't placed a single ward up in that shoe box you call an apartment." Helen's voice was somewhere between shrill and accusing and it always got under Dresha's skin. No boss at any temp job had ever had the power to upset her the way her parents did. On the porch, her cigarette lit and her high long gone Dresha watched the world below her blue painted toe nails that dangled off the balcony of her building. Her magic came from her parents and therefore any spell she cast they knew. She cringed thinking about all the different glamours she applied to her body. Her concern over the wind magic took a back seat to her embarrassment. As long as they didn't mention it she wouldn't either.

"It's not like that, I just don't want to be a burden on either of you." Dresha said in a sullen voice, her blue hair swayed as the smoke of the lit cigarette rose up to the heavens. She took a drag and thought about her parents, her mother fifty but looked thirty with blond highlights in her dark hair. She has a gymnast taut body and always wore blouses and short skirts. Al with his Polo's and cargo shorts belonged at a country club on the green teeing off with the rich and powerful. She missed his handsome face and salt and pepper beard. He gave the best hugs, Dad hugs. Even after he had caught her 16 year old self in bed with one of her teachers, he still looked at her like the father of the year. It had been him that had inspired her to fly across the country and make it for herself. If she were honest, it was her independence that had kept her from creating wards that would constantly tap into their power.

"Burden, honey you literally burned down our shed trying to raise the dead when you were six. If you weren't a burden then you won't be one now," Al's voice like a bag of rocks came over the line and Dresha placed one of her hands to her forehead. She had wanted to raise Mister Bigglesworth, her dog from the dead when it had been hit by a car. The candles had caught the rags that Al used to wax the car on fire and the shed and Mister Bigglesworth had gone up in smoke so fast. Al had felt the power course from him to her and kicked in the wooden door. He had seen her cradling the head of the massive Hound crying and coughing from the smoke. The memory was one that he was sure had caused him to go gray so early.

"Can we not talk about the past anymore for today, I know you two love to live there but today someone sent a wind ten stories up and unlocked my window to get it in," Dresha choked out unaware of when she had started crying.

"Darling, where are you?" Al asked his voice slow and filled with uncertainty. Helen's glass shattered against the wall in the background.

"She's still home Al!" Helen screamed in hysterics though Dresha couldn't figure out what had caused their parents to go off the deep end.

"Dresha, get out. If someone could unlock your window, they would have to have been in your apartment. How does Magic work?" Al shouted

"You have to visualize your intent." Dresha responded and as she turned to get up the knife plunged into her back.

End of Chapter One


	2. Nothing Good Comes Out Of New Jersey

One Week Before

Jon

Thousands of people live in Seattle. One hundred of those thousands have any real magic coursing through their veins. Of those hundred most believe they are naturally lucky, or unlucky based on how the magic manifests itself inside their bodies. Sometimes magic draws positive effects from the world around the person, sometimes it brings every form of disaster. Magic is tricky like that. To the few who feels something in their life is helter skelter and makes the educated guess something isn't right with them. They look for answers, as time changes so do the means of looking for answers.

Any magical being in the 1990's saw the film "The Craft" and found themselves in a magic shop learning how to light a wick or some parlor magic as small acts are called. In this modern age where Magic is showcased on televisions, smartphones in the many forms of media. Magical people understand what they are with a cursory Google search. From there it is anyone's guess which path they will take.  
Others are found by other magic users and learn from each other. Magic has always been stronger in the presence of other magic users, as some say Magic calls to Magic.

This is true for the young man standing on a street corner one week before the knife plunged into Dresha's back. He stands at five foot eight inches with his sapphire blue eyes closed listening, His handsome face with it's permanent five o'clock shadow around full lips and a square jaw, He has small button nose and thick dark brows that naturally curved down at the ends attracting the eye of men and women alike but there was something that kept them back. An almost invisible wall he had created by will alone kept every passerby a few inches away from him and any before or behind him instinctively moved around him. The moment they were away from him they forgot he was there at all, which was his magic.

Jon wore a black shimmering in the daylight silk button down shirt that clung to his barrel chest and taut muscular stomach as it was tailored to do, black slacks stretched over his strong, thick legs and black leather strap sandals with brass clasps finished his attire. Sweeping long black swirls and letters written in many different languages on every part of his skin could be seen from where the short sleeves ended. From his shoulders down to his large thick pale feet. Words, in many languages are tattooed across every inch of of his cream colored skin in a disordered chaos but if someone were to skin him. They could twist and combine the words into sentences that would add up to the entire Grimoire of a set of witches long since dead.

Jon Redding, is a living spell book, handsome in appearance by effort on his part to undermine how hideous he feels his body is since the tattoos were applied on him at some point in a childhood he can not remember. He has worked out constantly, applied every skin cream, attempted laser tattoo removal, but he is still the book of spells someone wanted him to be. To him, he is still the horror someone wanted him to be. He never knew if it was the spells craving power or if it was natural for him to crave power. From that day years ago when he had been a boy of ten and beat a boy's face in with a rock after luring him away from his friends to play in a sun lit creek.

He had acted on instinct, one moment they had been splashing water at each other and the next the blood covered rock had been in his hand. He had the uncontrollable urge to lick the stone.  
His mind filled with the harmony of voices that seemed to be singing to him from the blood of the child before him. That overwhelming hunger had burned him from the inside out and he had licked it clean of every drop of blood before he looked down at the dead boy. The police had found the boy, the official report had been a wild animal had attacked him, but no one could determine how the boy had been drained of all blood from the many bite marks.

Now years later he listened to the sound of the blood in the veins of the hundreds of people who walked past him, he thought about it. Why did whatever God existing create him this way? There was no logical answer he could think of. He had been searching all his life for someone else like him but never found another living Vampire. He had found Vampires, those living dead beings who didn't have fangs but teeth who ripped through veins and skin to drink blood.  
He had been in New Jersey when he had first heard the sound of dead blood. The sound was like a singer singing from a radio underwater. Curious he had walked down the empty street that late night.

The cold hadn't mattered, his excitement at meeting someone else different than the humans was too great. He had let the being grab him off the street with a strength he had never felt. The brick wall met his back brutally as cold fingers gripped his long neck. He couldn't scream from the crushing grip the woman before him had on his neck. So he grinned at her, before her fist could meet his face he ignited her. His magic was always swirling inside him like lightening in a glass bottle. His intent to harm but not kill had been enough to cause every molecule in her body to work in tandem violently. The heat of it was amplified by him until seconds later the low burning fire burst from her slender arms.

Falling in a heap, her hissed screams had been satisfying to his ears so he let her burn a little longer before extinguishing the flames by calling to her molecules that acted as if they were on adereall. She rolled on the ground while he rose to his feet. His left eye brow rose as he smiled down at the suffering woman.

"The flames are out so, can we have a chat or should I Kill You?" Jon asked his patience frayed by her attack earlier. The woman, a young Spanish looking woman in a white sundress that perfectly contrasted her dark caramel skin looked at him fearfully.

"What do you want?" she asked, her accent deep and rich with heritage.

"First to know why you attacked me, second why your blood sounds wrong? Are you dying?" Jon asked rubbing his chin in thought.

"You're trespassing in a Vampire's territory, it is custom to kill on sight." the woman spoke the words with authority, Jon felt a grin tease the corners of his lips. He had never met a Vampire before, the idea maybe of finding answers appealed to him the way a child who peaked at his Christmas gifts would. He offered a hand to the woman, but she smacked it away and stood on her own.

"To your second question I am between living and dead, my blood flows slowly through my reanimated body because it is thicker now than before." the woman said to the ground. Jon nodded than realized her veiled meaning.

"Does that mean you're one of them?" Jon asked excitedly watching her face for any indication she was lying. There was none as she spoke,"I am Isabella Forlain, second in command of Tobias Mercier. We are Vampires, yes. He wants to speak with you, follow me." Isabella said and Jon shrugged and had followed her. She had hailed a taxi that brought them to an abandoned church.

The building was large and beautiful even in it's current state of disrepair. Two muscular men stood guard at the sidewalk. Both wore sunglasses that made it hard for him to see their eyes. Both wore suits and black button downs. He knew instantly they were bodyguards. The thought confirmed what he had guessed on the drive. The Vampires either were telepathic like in the movies or had some sort of hive mind where what one Vampire saw they all knew instantly.

"Coming? And it's the first not the weird Hive mind theory, that would be....gross," Isabella said with a chuckle that sounded relaxed. He didn't know what all she had seen in his mind but it was enough to realize he wasn't going to kill her or anyone else. He was annoyed with the wind being taken out of his bargaining chip but he obediently left the car. The nights in New Jersey were frigid and he pulled his jacket tighter around him as he walked past Tweedledum and Tweedledee, he had named them in his head. Infront of him Isabella laughed openly and it sounded smooth as milk chocolate to him. The two muscular statues didn't find it as funny.

"Call us that, Pipsqueak and we will break your fucking legs," Tweedledee shouted and Isabella froze. In the space of mere seconds the tension of the open courtyard shifted dramticaly.

"Since when does Muscle speak?" Isabella shouted and her voice was amplified by magic so it filled the open space. Tweedledee turned to face the street and was silent again. Without anotther word Isabella move toward the large oak doors. He found it interesting that inspite a portion of the sandstone wall to the right of the doors being broken and gone entirely half way up. The doors stood, he opened his senses and felt around the place. He didn't feel the energy of magic at all in this place.

So it must be dumb luck he settled on that theory as the doors opened and out walked the Tobias Meicher. Jon hadn't pictured him, he had tried to keep his mind entirely blank on the car ride but looking at the Vampire before him he had to admit he hadn't pictured it.  
Tobias Meicher looked like a 13 year old Italian boy in a chocolate brown suit with wing tip shoes, complete with the dark curls, dark olive skin and pointed chin. Before he could stop himself Jon thought Tobias could cut glass with those cheekbones.

"I doubt it but I accept the compliment, and before you ask I am 700 years old." Tobias said in voice as old as the Vampire said inspite of his appearance.

"I wasn't going to ask," Jon said but of course the Vampire knew he was lying and to be honest he was already annoyed by knowing they exist. He liked his sense of superiority and having beings who could literally know him better than he knew himself left little he could use as leverage.

"i'm sorry to hear that," Tobias said, his deep voice sounding like rolling thunder and mock sadness.

"I didn't say anything," Jon exclaimed, his cheeks red with embarrassment and irritation.

"Your thoughts my dear are as loud and undignified as a water Buffalo," Tobias stated flatly

"And you look like you should be asleep in bed not rulling the undead," Jon shouted back. If they could hear anything he thought might as well say what he was thinking. The insult hung in the air between the two and Isabella who had stood at her master's side was dumbfounded.

"I could kill you where you stand," Tobias said through gritted teeth. Jon smirked and raised his arms in challenge.

"Then why don't you?" Jon retorted taking a step forward.

"Mild curiosity, same as you" Tobias said trying to sound calm but Jon heard the edge to his words.

"What about me has you curious?" Jon closed the distance, stumbling up the broken stairs. He had almost fallen twice all of this watched by two sets of large red almond shaped eyes.

"It's not every day an abomination comes to my door. Your mind for instance is locked. You're 25 but I can not see anything of age 9 or below. With any human their entire existence lives in their cells, their blood. I SHOULD BE ABLE TO SEE WHERE YOU GOT THOSE TATTOOS YOU'RE HIDING BUT I CAN NOT AND THAT...." Tobias stopped shouting when Isabella placed a hand on his shoulder. "...is troubling. Someone more powerful than even me has put a lock on you and those powers of yours. I would say you are using half of what you are capable of."

Jon was floored, of course he wondered why he couldn't remember his parents but had assumed it had to do with the spells engraved in every part of his body. Like his mind had blocked out the trauma of hours upon hours of tattoo work on his skin to make it what it Is now. The possibility that someone had deliberately locked his mind from him had never been an option. His magic was formidable, he knew he could do things naturally that others couldn't but never thought there was more. He knew after killing a person and drinking their blood he was stronger, capable of more for a short time but he needed to feed more to use more powerful spells or innate magic soon after.

"Jon let me answer your question simply as you were half right. Then you must leave and never ever come back here again. Do you promise?" Tobias asked solemnly looking Jon in the eye for the first time in their conversation.

"Why can't I stay, You know more than I do. You can teach me how to feed, how to live, please. I'm sorry for calling you a child. I NEED GUIDANCE," Jon shouted the last part desperately, the thought of being in the presence of someone who could help him find answers but being cast away was almost too much for him to bare.

"Because Magic comes from somewhere. I understand the hell this is for you and I empathize. 700 years ago a creature came to my home, butchered my family and left me for dead. I awoke in a box in the ground and had to claw my way out. I killed more people in that first night than you have in your entire life. The hunger, the need for blood was unbearable. No one taught me how to be what I am. I learned quickly to survive I had to fight, as you will. But you can not be here because whatever thing created you, its always aware of where you are. It follows you down the metaphysical link you share with it because of the magic inside of you. Any time you use magic, it knows. You were half right, any Vampire who shares my blood I can see through their minds if I choose. Its different for Witches, imagine a tree in a wood. Now imagine strings to that tree tied to a child's wrist." Tobias paused and watched Jon's face for understanding.

"The tree can always see the child," Jon stated and his blood ran cold. Tobias nodded sadly even Isabella looked away in sadness for him. Seeing inside Jon's mind had given them more then a glimpse at the broken man before them. They had seen the abuse he had suffered by the hands of those who were charged to raise him. They had watched him run from town to town every time the hunger for blood became too great and he had killed someone. They wanted to fix him but knew it was beyond their powers.

"I am truly sorry, If I could cut the bond between you and that thing I would. But I fear you would die in the process. Now, I can do two things for you. You want to know what you are. You my dear boy are a Spell Weaver. During the original Witch Trials, there were many of what you are. The story of Macbeth, those three witches. Morgana of Authorian legend. Tituba of Salem. A man in a colony known as Roanoake. All were Spell Weavers, you have the power to create new magics if you choose. I don't know how it is done, but it is a danger to be what you are. There are people who hunted down your kind and drank your blood to gain your power. They drank the Spell Weavers to extinction or so I thought, but seeing inside your mind I see the magic again for the first time in centuries." Tobias said and his voice was distant as he remembered something but Jon didn't ask.

"Do you see the line yet," Tobias asked after a moment of silence. Jon frowned and chewed on the words. All of this was too much, too fast and he knew soon they would go and he would be left with nothing. That thought made it near impossible for him to think of anything else.

"They were surrounded by death," Isabella said to Jon's confusion and Tobias nodded.

"Spell Weaver's attract conflict like honey to Bears, it is a dangerous road you walk." Tobias stated

"What's the other thing," Jon asked, his voice hallow. All of this was too much for him to take in but he had no choice. For 15 years he had wandered wanting answers and now that he had them, he only had more questions.

"There is a place, it's hidden in plain sight where many creatures like us have gone to live. To hide ourselves away from the rest of the world. Go to Wolf Creek, Washington it's a small town on the outside of Seattle. As long as you don't use your magic you should be safe. Remember these words and leave now. Never step foot in New Jersey. I will not risk the safety of my kin for you," Tobias said and without looking back walked back into the church and the door closed behind him.

Jon stood there, tears rolling down his cheeks as his mouth hung open. For a moment he was in the presence of someone who could be his Obi Wan and just like that he was gone. He left New Jersey that night on the train into New York. He found other Vampires and spoke with them.They had had no answers for him, instead they had called him a monster. Him, he hadn't been able to believe it. But here he was like a spider on a web listening for someone whose blood sang to him the way that boy had many years ago.

The sound came in a growing den of voices to his right. He turned and inclined his head as if it would allow him to him hear it better. The voices he had learned from a vampire who had taken a chance at a conversation with him inspite of the coven deeming him an abomination had said it was Magic passed down from one generation to the next. The magic of a family line contained itself in the blood of the current magical user, to supernatural creatures like them, They could hear the history of the line in the coursing of blood through the veins of that person. Jon had discovered that drinking the blood of other Witches filled him for months. He could literally go so long without human blood if he could just have one. Jon hated killing, hated drinking blood no matter how good it felt to him in the moment. It was his nature to kill only for the sake of food, had he another way he wouldn't do it. As he listened to the voice walking towards him, his heart began to beat faster, a warmth could be felt along his skin at the feast of magic walking towards him.

A man in a suit talking animatedly on his phone moved to the left and he saw her. The large doe eyes, the ruby red hair, the full bubble gum pink lip glossed lips. The slip dress thing he hadn't seen on a woman since "Buffy The Vampire Slayer" was on tv. But what made him grin happily was the bright aura coming off Dresha giving her skin a glow humans couldn't see. His mouth watered at the sight of her and his body was wired for the fight that always comes with fighting a powerful witch.

Like a deer who senses Danger she paused a few feet in front of him and looked this way and that. He stopped smiling, the elation turning to fretting over whether she could see through his mirror wall spell. But she continued towards him a moment later and he started toward her. He wouldn't kill her now, no not now. He liked to stalk and cause the intended to be off their game by the time he made his presence known. Fear is the best disorientate in the world. So he would cause her to feel it, and finally he would stab her and consume her power and her blood and move on.

The singing in her veins would die in his mouth but for now, as she passed him he used his magic to see inside her skull. Her address, her job, her name instantly became his as he said in a voice only she could hear,

"So it Begins" she stopped then, looked back. She felt the words on her skin, her mind had already forgotten them. But she felt fear prickle across her spine. She kept running through the moment before but she couldn't catch the words just the feeling of malice.

"Get a grip girl," she thought to herself and continued on to work unaware of the man watching her from across the street or his glowing blue eyes.


	3. Friday Night Lights

South of Seattle resting beside the beach that kissed the Pacific Ocean the town of Wolf's Creek lives as it has for centuries. Hidden away from the rest of the world in plain sight if you chose to look, but most didn't. The sleepy hamlet of a town is surrounded by dense forests on all the other sides. The woods are vast and deep, filled with all sorts of animals and other creatures that walk on two legs.

People know not to hunt in the Blackwoods, the nickname the Indians gave to the blackwood trees that grew strange fruit that tasted different to each person. Some said the bright red and green ball like fruit tastes like apples, others said it tasted of citrus. The creatures who walked on two legs in the Blackwoods rarely let strangers pick the fruit to see for themselves. The foolish and the brave who ventured off the paths and their protection were skinned alive and eaten. Never to be heard from again, only the woods knew of them then, old magics claimed their existence and erased them from the minds of any who cared for them. All those people felt was an ache in their minds where their loved ones used to be, and even that faded with time. Only townspeople could even go deep into the woods to find the fruit without losing their minds or worse their lives.

A small downtown area with three story buildings made of wood and brick stand tall and welcoming to all who see them made up the city of Wolf's Creek. These simple buildings painted white or red depending on who owned them had been in the town since the forties and instead of being risen up to be skyscrapers were instead tended to and cared for with the grace and adoration people give to their plants. Smaller one or two story buildings were home to the many mom and pop shops built around them was the town's body.

The buildings were whimsical in design with large clean glass windows that showed off the many inventions inside. Hand carved signs, painted in bright colors advertised the names of the businesses inside. Some were cake and other delicacies, others were wood carvings or paintings, no shop was the same and each had its own family who ran them. The families had moved to e-selling as a second form of bringing in business and trade. A stretch of suburbs built around the town move further along the coast south. If you asked a random stranger have you heard of Wolf's Creek?

The answer would be a curious or bemused No. There was nothing noteworthy about the town of Wolf's Creek. The only historical significance the town had was that once, John F. Kennedy had brought Jackie O to vacation on the pearl white beaches and swim in the crystal clear waters of the creeks. He said he had "One Hell of a Time"but wouldn't say why. Beneath the simple designed homes, all squares and flat roofs with yards that passed the home owners association standards are families who were born in the town. Inside their houses were secrets, every town has them. Things the residents experience that they don't tell their relatives in other places. Like that time the neighbors boy fell down a well and the whole town gathered around that hole in the ground and worked hard to keep him alive, anyway they could. These things happen, and people go about their lives and something unsaid becomes a secret. That easily.

In Wolf's Creek, it was the last Friday of the month. Almost the whole town was at the newly built football stadium built for the Wolf's Creek high school. The football game was in full swing. The whole town was cheering the Wolf's Creek Puritans as they ran the field against a team from a neighboring town. If you asked any citizen they would chuckle at the name of their team and go their way. Why the Puritans, cause the Town has been founded by them many years ago,they would say if pressed. The jerseys are a dark blue, their players are all built of strong stuff. The other team was lean and fast and knew how to weave in between the Puritans thick arms. It was a close game.

The light brown eyes of David Donnelly watches the teams swarm each other for the ball that had just been fumbled from his place in the centerof the stands. His olive complexion caught the light of the crescent moon making his skin almost glow. A thick beard of chocolate brown curls framed his handsome long face and small pointed jaw. He chewed the tip of his thumb between thin lips with perfect teeth. His small curved nose flared as the Puritans got the ball and their star player Devin Thomas charged down the field. He at twenty eight years old remembered what it was like to be sixteen years old, the pounds of heavy padding feeling like they weren't there at all as he charged down the field. The whole world seemed to fall away from him as hehad played for the team. The ball pressed tight to his chest as he spun around the opposing team's massive players. He could almost feel his blood in his ears the way he had then. But he wasn't here as a player, he tore his eyes from the game and focused on his little sister.

Hadley Donnelly was small for her age. Barely five foot two inches with long blonde straight hair and blue eyes the only thing they shared inlooks was their noses. She has full pink lips, a lean body with wide hips and a small chest he thanked the great spirit for every day. It kept the boys off her and on her best friend Jess Thompson. The two were inseparable. And polar opposites, Jess is tall, with bubble gum pink wavy hair and dark eyes, a voluptuous chest and a perfect hourglass figure. They wore the navy blue cheerleader uniforms and each had painted the others faces with win across their cheeks with blue glitter paint he had bought for them. He viewed Jess as he did Hadley, like little girls though lately Jess had been glancing athim a bit too long and hard and it made him uncomfortable. She would get a faraway look in those dark doe eyes as she stared at him. But he ignored it the way he ignored most things that didn't directly harm him or Hadley, With blind indifference, he ignored her not that subtle insinuations.

The way her eyes looked at him the way women in bars did. Once he noticed as Hadley was talking to her, she wasn't listening to her as he was walking through the house without a shirt on. He hadn't been aware Jess was there and come down for a glass of orange juice and froze. Hadley had kept talking about the plans they had for the morning, but Jess just watched him. Her eyes taking in his long, lean torso and the Indian tribal tattoos running down his bronze skin. Any words that Hadley had said to Jess fell at her feet, as Jess followed him the length of thetrip through the kitchen with her eyes. He had left the orange juice bottle on the counter and run up stairs and come back wearing a hoodie. In Spite of the summer heat.

As he sat in the stands he wondered if one of the main reasons of the girls friendship surviving as long as it had was her attraction to him. He hated thinking with that level of cynicism, but would never say that to his sister. Unlike him, she had never had a hard time making and maintaining friendships. But no person, girl or boy ever came to their home but Jess. Leaving those thoughts to the night air. He grinned at his sister as she noticed him looking at her and she waved. He waved back. He wondered if this was what it was like being a parent, worrying over every possible painful experience that could happen to their children. When their parents passed away in a freak storm two years ago, he had adopted Hadley. It hadn't been a choice, he refused to be separated from his sister. It had been three years since he had committed his wife to the asylum, and he was alone. David had refused for his sister to also be alone. He wasn't surprised when Jess also waved at him enthusiastically and he nodded at her but did not wave.

He remembered being a teenager, the way any kind gesture from someone he thought he loved gave him the hardest erection. Made him do the dumbest things, for a moment he thought of that stolen night at the high school with that teammate but he closed his mind to the smell of aftershave and sweat and the feel of someone else's scruff rubbing against his chin. Those blue eyes that had looked at him the way Jess did now. Biting deep into his bottom lip til he tasted his own blood, he turned back to the players on the field and away from all the other thoughts and memories he didn't want to think about. Somehow in the short time he hadn't been looking the away team had made a touchdown. The Puritans were putting up a decent fight to regain ground as the game continued. But the vibration of his Iphone in his pocket drew his attention away from it.

Fishing it out of his blue jeans pocket he saw the sender was his Chief. He tapped the large screen to open the text and saw the words.

"Dresha Meeks vanishes into thin air in her apartment. Suspected Supernatural involvement, investigate alone ASAP." there was an attachment with the details and the location of an apartment in Seattle. His brows furrowed together as he looked at the cheerleaders as they began another cheer for the boys on the field whose hearts were no longer in the game, He rose, and as he said "Excuse me"over and over he sent a text to his friend Vi asking her to pick up Hadley. On the stairs down the bleachers he sent another to Hadley apologizing for missing pizza but as he Apple Paid her fifty dollars, he told her he loved her and that she did great.

On the ground level he thought of all the games his father had missed, of the greasy twenty dollar bills slapped against his palm for burgers for the family as an apology. Even though twenty dollars for four people was rarely enough. So he always made sure to give Hadley more money then she needed just to show he cared. It was a pathetic way to show it he thought as he moved past families and friends who were enjoying the friday night game. Many people waved at him but all could see from the frown on his handsome face, it was better to save talking for later. A part of him wondered if he was just acting like his father, putting everything before his kids the way he did for Hadley whenever his job called.

"Don't go down that road, focus on the case." He told himself as he got to his large black pick up truck and unlocked it and swung himself up into the cab. Taking a moment to breathe, he opened the attachment and saw the photo of the beautiful young woman who no one had seen since Sunday. The spirit of the wolf that lived inside his body stirred as he looked at her eyes, and could see something off in the photo. Using his thumb and his forefinger he enlarged the image and saw that her eyes were magically enhanced from the almost two sets of pupils in her irises. He double tapped the image and took a long look at the woman. He suspected she was a Witch but would have to get there to find out. He set his Google Maps app for Seattle and turned the key to start the truck.


	4. WitchFight

5 Days Before

Jon stabbed the short knife into the back of the witch he had been stalking for days. He watched the blade slip past the black t shirt and through the skin of her back. He was filled with triumph at the look of shock on her face as the blade found it's home inside her butit was the pain behind his right shoulder blade that broke the smile from his face. His face contorted into a mask of agony as the blade of the knife appeared deep in his back as if by magic. The realization of pain was crippling as fell to his knees. The hilt of the blade fell useless to the concrete patio as Dresha rose to her bare feet and looked down at him. A smile grew along her face as she walked over him.

"Surprise Bitch." he heard her sing song at him as he fell on to his back and bit back a scream at the fresh pain from the area surrounding the blade as his back pressed to the cement. He watched her skip off into the apartment as he gritted his teeth and rolled onto his stomach. He took in shallow breaths as he tried his best to understand what had just happened. His arms flailed around for any amount of the blade jutting from his back but he felt none. He sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes. He imagined his body. Imagined the intrusion of the blade in his body.

He knew it was inside his lungs from the amount of air he wasn't getting as he struggled to breathe. He had intended the blade to puncture her lung so that he would have time to eat her blood from multiple areas while she was still alive. He knew he needed to focus, needed something new to focus on as he put his thumb over his pointer finger and pressed down on it till he heard it snap out of it's socket. He shouted out against the cement. A fresh rush of adrenaline filled him as he focused on that new singular pain and not the one sending searing shocks of pain through his body. His mouth moved against the cement, he needed a healing spell and a levitation spell to work in tandem. He spoke the words in French as he focused on the blade inside his lung. It hurt worse coming up out of him as it had going in. He said one line of one spell and one of another. He intertwined the two spells while squeezing his broken finger every moment he felt himself begin to swoon and black out. Soon the blade floated above him as his body stitched itself closed. The searing heat of it was almost too much for him but he just squeezed harder on his broken finger until the burning sensatuon between his shoulders smoldered toa dull ache.

He pushed himself up onto his hands and knees and roared in fury as he ran after Dresha into her apartment. Her cats scattered as he ran through the living room and down the hallway. He didn't bother with the bathroom as he kicked in the door to her bedroom. Soon he was standing in the center of it. His breathing heavy as he looked around the spell of ripping practically sizzling on his tongue.

"WHERE-THE FUCK ARE YOU BITCH!?" He shouted as he turned and she shoved him forward. Using his momentum against him he fell back off guard and stumbled foot over foot and smashed into what he thought was a wall but the wall never seemed to meet him. Instead he fell and fell.Behind him Dresha watched his body pitch forward through the liquid ripples of the wall that held the poster "Midnight Slasher" on it. It was as if the wall was consuming him, as he slid into it all the way down to his Black sandals. If she were honest with herself, the short beefcake was a hottie but she would be damned if she were going to be killed by an Abercrombe and Fitch model.

She followed, taking slow even steps into her spell There was something like the feeling of coming home to her as she felt the magic swirl around her body. Her skin was soaked in the metaphysical force of the spell as it swam over her. He was still falling as she dived forward, her arms at her side as she followed him into the darkness.

Jon's blue eyes fluttered open as he came to. The pain of his broken finger was gone, the minor ache in between his shoulder blades was gone as well. It was as if he was suddenly whole again. He swallowed a breath of air and tasted moisture and salt air on his tongue. The feeling of wrongness was all around him as he sat up and shook his head. The feel of his dark bangs rubbing across his forehead was the first indicator that he was changed. He raised his hands up to his face and felt his smooth skin where his beard had been. He lowered his hands and tried not to hyperventalitate as thoughts and alarm bells seemed to explode in his mind. Looking down at his long arms he saw that the black swirls and old english letters were gone from his arms. His hands were also blank of any of the spells that had been tattooed and engraved into his skin.

His mouth was ran dry, his heart slammed against his chest as he looked down at his legs and the dated pair of white tennis shoes on his feet. Whatever spell she cast had stripped him of the spells and magic he had been forced to have.

"NoNo No," he repeated as he held his hands in front of him and tried to move them to create a simple defensive spell. There was nothing, the well of magic inside his body was empty and in it's place was a barren empty feeling. Angry tears burned at the edges of his eye lids and he fought back against them.

"God,I wondered when you would try it." a familiar voice taunted him from behind him. He stood in haste and launched himself at Dresha who exploded into a wisp of smoke the moment he closed the distance between them.

"You remind me of a puppy that hasn't been kicked enough," her voice said beside his ear, so close he could feel the breath tickle it. He swung a fist at her and caught only air again.

"So angry...it's not like I violated your safe space and tried to kill you. Oh wait that's me." the menace in those words grew until the last few were shouted and a small but strong fist caught him in his guts. There was magic in the punch intensifying the force of it. He fell to his bare knees on the moist grass, coughing and sputtering as he tried to breathe around the impact of the blow to his midsection. Long thin fingers grabbed a fist full of his dark hair and yanked him up.

"This is gonna sound a bit cliché, but I'm not going to kill you just yet.I want to play with you first. It's been so long since I had a man in my room, I want to take my time and go at my own pace. That's ok right," that false innocent sounding voice said against his skin.The pain in his head burned as he reached back to get his fingers around where he thought her neck would be but it was empty again.

"Has anyone told you, Violence isn't the only way to solve a problem.Maybe you should try therapy. It worked wonders on me, I learned that if I tried hard enough, I could create magical worlds and trap people inside me, Usually it's men who can't take no for an answer, like my therapist but today its some preppy douche who thought they could kill me while I was having a personal moment with my parents. You know how rare that is I'm assuming since you've been stalking me for a while. It's ok, you thought you were clever and for a moment you were but spoiler alert not that it matters. Appearing at two temp jobs is the brightest red flag, like ever. So I started watching, and sure enough you were in so many places with me, it was obvious. So Ihave one question for you," Dresha asked coldly as she manifested directly in front of Jon.

"Do you like Scary Movies? Cause you're in one," she said and the sound of a loud chainsaw whirring to life cut off whatever witty remark Jon had been about to say. Jon turned back from the woman and saw the dark wood trees seem to open as a massive chain saw wielding man dressed like a deranged butcher come running towards him. He tore off forward towards it and Dresha's smile faltered. She had expected him to run screaming.

Anger flared through Jon, pure white hot anger set his blood on fire as he closed the distance between him and the murderous camp cafeteria worker. He'd seen the movie, knew the plot. He also knew the Lunchman was slow. He dived to the right and rolled as the whirring blade swung in a diagnol slash close to him but never tearing into his skin. Jon scrurried to the left as the blade sunk into the wet grassand dug itself deep into the ground. Jon clasped his hands together and brought his fist down on the wrist of the butcher as the killer tried to pull the chainsaw free of the ground. The killer growled athim and Jon ignored the smell and sound as he brought his arms up to do it again. If he could just get the chainsaw, he would have a fighting chance agaisnt them.

Butas he brought his fists down the blade moved up freed from the ground. The saw cut through skin, muscle and bone as blood flew intothe air. Jon screamed as the saw cut through his arms. He fell back against the wet sand and grand as Dresha walked up to stand over him.

"I have to say...You had me. I thought you were going to for sure run screaming, or take Lunchman's distraction over his saw in the ground to bash his brains in with that rock literally two steps to yourright. But you went with option C, use that Big Dick energy to overpower a monster. Way to go Bro let me give you a hand," Dresha said holding one of Jon's severed forearms out to him. Jon rolls on the ground screaming and howling in agony and Dresha grins and asks,"Too Soon, it's ok. I'll be seeing you, in your dreams Jonnyboy"as he watched her saunter off, the whirring of the chainsaw coming back to life reminded him of the deranged cafteria monster Lunch man standing, over him.

Jon gritted his teeth against the paint of losing his arms as he took a deep breath and shouted "Fuck you bitch," as the saw plunged into his chest sawing through bone and skin and deeper into his body killing him.


	5. Placebo Dreams

Jon's eyes snapped open, he was covered in cold sweat and breathing heavy. Anxiety and adrenaline running through his blood as the last dregs of the nightmare faded into the back of his mind. He was awake, 17 in his bed. He wasn't a camp counselor who spit in the cook's stew when he thought the guy wasn't looking. He wiped his forehead with his t shirt and gasps at the wetness of it. He pushed back his covers and looked down at himself. His chubby belly and long awkward hairy legs didn't seem right but he couldn't understand why as he got up. His a car's headlights illuminated the walls of his bedroom and he saw all the posters of different rock bands and Godzilla posters. He peeled the shirt off his skin and over his head as he rubbed his chest. A frown on his face as he walked to the door and went out into the cluttered hallway unaware of the dark shape in the corner of the room watching him. Jon turned the light on in the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. He was pale, his hair dark and unrully, his blue eyes looked worried as he rubbed his hand over his chest again but he couldn't understand why. Shrugging he started the shower and pulled down his pajamas. He looked at himself in the mirror again and looked at the rolls of his stomach, his small penis and thepimples along his thighs. He reminded himself he wasn't done growing, That puberty didn't settle down until 21, there was still time to turn into Brian Austin Green if he just stopped eating,worked out, and drank water instead of soda.

Stepping into the shower, he smiled at the thought of not looking like the Pillsbury Doughboy but instead like a hot guy. As he rubbed himself with the lime green bar of soap, he imagined being six foot tall with spiky dark hair and a beard. Raising one of his arms he scrubbed his smelly arm pit with the soap as he imagined what it would be like to have rock hard pecs and a washboard stomach instead of a long smooth vertical hill. He rubbed his other armpit imagining adult him taking a shower. What it would be like to be tall and not short and fat and ugly. But manly, tall and sexy. His eyes snapped open at that thought, he felt an ache from his penis and he looked down to see that his once tiny penis was standing at attention holding up the middle of his stomach.

Fear prickled across Jon's mind at the thoughts he was having, he shook his head and felt panicked confusion as he reached down and touched the plump pink tip of his penis. Tears spilled down his eyes across as he cheeks as he realized at some point his body had reacted to the mental image of himself as a man, that he was hard for a man. It was at that moment that the faucet of the shower made a rumbling noise. Jon looked at it as his head tilted to the left and blood spurted out of the shower. The crimson liquid sprayed his body and turned his pink skin red with it as he screamed. He yanked back the shower curtain and saw the man he had grown an erection for looking down at him. The bearded mouth curled into a smile as a deep monstrous asked

"Do you want to fuck me or I fuck you Pig Boy?" the caricature of his dreams and ambitions asked. Jon screamed again as the man grabbed him by the neck and forced him back into the shower of bloody water. Jon scratched at the strong hands on his neck, dug his claws into the skin as he gasped for air. The bathroom door opened and his parents burst in. Jon blinked, and the dream was gone just as the first had been and he was standing in the shower, slumped against the wall having fallen asleep at some point.

"We thought someone was killing you!?" his mother shouted and his dad just stared at him in disapproval. There was something in that look that hurt worst than a belt ever could. Without a word his father turned his head in disgust and walked away. Jon stood in the shower watching the empty space where his father had been, grateful that the shower masked the tears running down his cheeks.

At the high school Jon sat with his group of friends, the nerdy outcasts and told them the story of the night before. The group consisted of two boys and two girls and him. He sat quietly, he was worried what they would think. He didn't leave out his first erection which he had embarrassing realized had been there with his mother present.

"What kind of loser doesn't realize he's popping wood in front of his own mother," Kevin Barzuk, a skinny loudmouth in the group asked and the rest ignored his outburst. They had been friends for a while and were used to it. Linda, the brain of the group with braces and dark hair put a hand on one of Jon's reminded him dreams can't hurt him. He nodded but Pete pulled at Jon's collar and Jon flinched his breath caught at the feel of the thick fingers on his skin.

"You got angry red marks back here Redding, did your dad get you again,"Pete asked and Jon shook his head. The rest of the ground gathered around the two boys and all gasped at the angry bruises on the back of Jon's neck.

"If you have another nightmare, you can dream of me ok Jon, I promise I won't let anything happen to you,"Pete said close to Jon's face and Jon was suddenly very aware of Pete's eyes on him. Jon nodded as Pete smiled at him and the rest of the lunch table oooed and ahhed like in the mattress Giant commercial.

Later In A Dream

Jon wheezed as he ran down the dark high school hallway as fast as his short legs could carry him. He is 17 years old, over weighted and his loud gasps for air made him an easy target for the freakishly tall,malnourished to the point of anorexic woman. This stalking,deadly humanoid of a creature is wrapped in bloody bandages who skittered across the ceiling like a spider. Her arms and legs jutted at awkward, gross angles allowing them to work in tandem. The wet urgent plop plop of her skin on the glass ceiling as her skin stuck to the surface. Only to come away from it seconds later,matching the urgent beat of his heart. She moved faster than before her victory in sight. Jon heard the skittering over his head, he looked up just in time to see her drop down directly in his path.

Jon had no way to stop running in time as he smashed into her cold boney waiting arms. He knew it was a dream, knew it wasn't real but as he looked into eight large, black, glassy eyes all looking down at him hungrily. His fear was very real.

The flat thin lips opened slowly as if she were mechanical and the motions of the lips opening seemed stunted every couple of seconds. Jon screamed so hard no sound came out as his eyes looked deep into the red wet hole behind those lips. Two golden thick fuzzy cylinders covered in saliva grew out of what once was a thin wide mouth. The cylinders tips popped like lesions as two points and he knew they were pincers or spider fangs.Jon wanted to scream,wanted to shout, but as he watched the fangs move back and forth so close to his face.

Before the points of the pincers could pierce the skin of Jon's forehead something smashed into the woman. And by being her captive him. The force of the impact threw them backwards for Jon. The spider woman let go of Jon as she tumbled further back. Jon looked ahead at the gray metal library cart and the bashfully hopeful olive skinned teenager who had pushed it.Pete stood at the end of the long gunmetal gray cart in an open blue plaid flannel shirt and white t shirt beneath. His dark eyes taking in the scene before him.

"Did I make it in time!?" Pete asked as he looked at the two bodies on the ground.Jon wanted to give in to his happiness at the sight of Pete being the one to save him, but the low hissing growl behind him reminded him of the danger they were in. Jon hastily scrambles over to Pete who kept his eyes on the spider woman with a look of fear and anger.His lips curled into a snarl as those eyes swiveled around to focus on him. Pete helped Jon to his feet and waited with him. While he did that he couldn't help but remember moments before in his own dream.

In the dream Pete had been having the 1960's song "I Have Only Have Eyes For You"played on a jukebox in the corner of a pastel white restaurant. The small black record spun as the somber music played the classic love song. Soft piano and heavy bass kept the slow pace as men's voices sung in Harmony to the sweet doo wop music. Pete and Jon had been in Sally's Ice Cream parlor alone in the dream. The white lights had been left off so only the neon green and pink lights illuminated the restaurant. Some of the neon lights were styled to resemble ice cream cones. Others hearts for Love and Valentines, he had caught Jon staring at them when he and their friends had been there for root beer floats. Jon sat on one side of the booth looking as adorable as he always did to Pete.

Jon wore a blue collared shirt that brought out his eyes. His wild brown hair was slicked back and Pete couldn't help but smile at him as the boy before him ate ice cream. The two were sharing a sundae while talking about whether or not Mulder and Scully would ever kiss when Jon said it.

"I wonder what kissing is like,"

Pete had choked on his ice cream and looked at the blushing teenager who wouldn't meet his eyes.

"You've never been kissed," Pete asked as he tried to regain his composure but the embarrassment at choking was making his face hot. Jon shook his head and grinned. Pete nodded slowly and spooned another round of sundae while thinking too much. He always thought too much when it came to Jon.

"Kissing is ok, or like it's great..." Pete tried to explain but his deep voice was still raw from choking earlier.

"Which is it? Ok or Great?" Jon asked leaning forward his face confused as he watched Pete lean away from him.

"It can be great depending on who you're kissing. If you like the person then kissing is great but if you don't...it's just two sets of lips moving against each other. Jon put your pointer fingers together," Pete said and Jon tilted his head to the side but did it and Pete waited.

"Why am I doing this?" Jon asked chuckling as he waved his hands pressed together in front of them. Pete smiles as he reached out and caught those hands in his larger ones. Keeping eye contact with Jon he gently placed one of Jon's hands on the yellow pastel painted wood of the table. His heart beat in his ears as he pressed his own hand next to Jon's and made sure Jon's pale pink pointer finger was beside his olive skinned finger. There was a warm feeling between their skin pressed together like that in silence. Jon watched Pete who leaned in, slowly. Timidly pressing his full lips against Jon's, the warmth of them spreading through Pete. He could taste the vanilla and chocolate on them as he took the leap and pressed the tip of his tongue against Jon's lips.

Jon opened his mouth just enough for Pete to slip his tongue inside and the connection grew. He felt Jon's warm hands on the skin of his forearms. Pete closed his eyes to savor that moment.When they had opened he was in the dark hallways of the school. Pete was reminded it was a dream by the jarring feeling of passing from one scenario to another. No matter what hallway he had gone down, he had wound up at the library as if someone was leading him there. He had run back the way he came countless times, and countless times he ran right back to the library entrance.

At night the school was dark and foreboding save the sounds of a scuffle not too far off. He had run towards the sounds and saw Jon running and that thing behind him. Pete had run back to the library and found the cart by the checkout counter and the idea hit him.

Now as the pair watched the bloody bandages and pale skin writhe on the ground as the woman sat up. A dry laugh grew from it, it started low and guttural as one thin hand moved forward followed by another. Jon's chubby hand grabbed Pete's arm snapping Pete out of his fascination with the monster before them. He looked down at Jon and saw the panic in those eyes and felt something inside himself burn with hate for the monster before them.

"We have to go now!"Jon shouted and Pete gritted his teeth but let himself be pulled forward as the laughter rose in volume. It was as if a dial was being turned on the volume of the hall. Jon let go of Pete to cover his ears and Pete did the same. Behind them the creature grew four more arms from her sides. She rose on her hands and feet and skittered-after them. Around Jon and Pete the glass of the windows shattered against the force of the laughter. They turned left and ran towards the doors with the word exit above it.

"We're almost there Pete," Jon shouted but all Pete did was run. Behind them the Spider woman gained on them. Jon slammed against the doors and closed his eyes against the force of his body hitting the metal door.

He opened his eyes and instead of the night and the parking lot he was surrounded by naked men. Jon took a step back and bumped into one his classmates. He looked down at himself and saw that he too was naked save for a white towel they provided at the high school gym. He looked left and right and saw that his P.E. classmates were milling about after another class and done with showering.

"Pete!?" Jon called out, his adrenaline surging in his blood from the chase he had just been in. He was confused as he looked around and saw that no one was in a hurry to put on their clothes. Smooth backs, round asses and strong legs were all he saw and he moved forward looking for Pete. He knew he was still dreaming and that Pete had been there with him. Jon hoped Pete was here and safe with him, not in the parking lot getting killed by the monster who had been stalking his nightmares.

"Pete isn't in this class Pig boy, now hit the showers." A gruff familiar voice said behind Jon and he froze and slowly turned to see the taller version of himself dressed in a white t shirt and red sweats with a coach's whistle hanging around his neck on a red string. The smirk on that knowing face made Jon swallow whatever he said as he nodded and walked past his classmates. The teenagers were no longer talking and instead were all watching him with smiles on their faces. Jon tried to avoid looking at their penises, at their better fit bodies. He folded his arms over his sagging chest and tried to have some sense of confidence but the tension in the room was choking him. He took deep breaths as he made it to the communal shower area.

His hands trembled as he heard someone ask in a joking voice, "Whose Pig boy?" The words cut deeper than any blade as Jon closed his eyes.

"Its not real, this is a dream," he whispered to himself

"Jon of course,Pig boy couldn't even do twenty push ups." Another answered loud enough it was like a shot gun going off as laughter erupted in the locker room. Jon remembered his muscles burning, the sweat dripping off his body as he pushed himself up from the fifteenth one.

"Wonder if he can play dodgeball, let's find out," the gruff voice of the coach called within seconds the large rubber ball slammed into the small of Jon's back with force. Jon's body bowed forward as he cried out in pain. He fell forward and landed on his hands and knees.

"Pig boy ya gotta dodge the ball. Try again" the voice called and Jon barely had time to register the words as the next ball hit him on the behind and he yelped loudly. Grateful the towel remained in place around his sizable waist. He crawled forward as tears fell against the blue tiled ground. More balls slammed against him over and over and he shouted out, "Stop please!" For a moment there was silence.A stillness filled the locker room as Jon gasped at air. His body burned from the places the balls had hit him, angry red welts were already forming.

"You did say please," the gruff voice said from closer and than before and Jon looked up just in time to see the red ball slam into his face crushing his nose with the force of it. Jon's head bounced off the tile ground and behind him the class and the coach vanished from the locker room as if they had never been there before. Jon remained hunched over gingerly touching his broken nose. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he rose from the tile and limped to the neighboring bathroom. His heavy steps were slow as each step was pure agony. He bit down on his bottom lip as the blood from his nose was on his tongue.

He looked at himself in the mirror and felt his heart falter. The reflection was a man not himself. The body was covered in long sweeping swirls, letters and words. He recognized Japanese characters, words in Arabic, some in old English. His eyes moved up the washboard stomach and pecs up to the blood soaked beard and the bruised mouth and the broken nose. Jon instinctively put his hand to his own nose before he could stop himself and he winced in pain and watched the man with wild dark hair winced at the same moment.

"No fucking way..."Jon said with a trembling voice as he raised his hand away and the man did the same. Jon made a fist and the man did it. Jon felt fresh tears burn his eyes but he closed his eyes and hoped his reflection would be normal but it wasn't.

"I just want to wake up!" He screamed at the reflection who screamed it back. Jon breathed deep as his body burned from the hits. He held the bathroom sink to steady himself and noticed the man didn't. Instead the man pressed his fingers to the blood and wrote with his bloody fingertips.

R.e.m.e.m.b. and the man squeezed his nose while Jon grimaced at the look of agony the man experienced as he wrote e.r. m.e.

"Remember Me?"He said reading the bloody letters. At the last syllable he watched the mirror begin to crack and splinter. The man on the other side looked behind him just in time for the spider woman slide down a web and sink her fangs into either side of his neck. Jon backed away from the shattering glass as she drank deep of the man's blood. Her eight eyes opened in sync and looked at him.

Jon snapped awake in that moment, his breathing deep and ragged. He rubbed at his face,grateful it had all been a dream. He saw missed texts from Pete on his phone once he had taken it off the charger.

"I got there in time?" Pete had asked

"You did, thanks!"Jon texted back and grinned as he felt himself blush at the next text, "Anytime."

Dresha was angry. Her sharp eyes watched the man before her. She had never met anyone who could manipulate the dream prison like that. Had she underestimated her captive. Outwardly she saw no sign of a change in his appearance but as she walked a slow circle around him she saw that his hand was clutching the broken finger. Her red lips pursed as she nodded with admiration for the cheap tactic. She had been so focused on the locker room failing that she hadn't kept an eye on the actual body.

"This is going to have to end sooner than I want. But ok. Let's kill this love,"she said as she closed her eyes and opened them as the sixteen year old version in Jon's prison.


	6. The Undead Uprising

If you said Wolf Creek is a progressive place you'd be lying to yourself. Hidden amongst the Blackwoods where creatures with skin and scales the color of ash stalk the forests, Wolf Creek is still a small town with small town mentalities to things new and different. Like all small town's some ideologies from the past are set into the foundations of most people's minds. In the later part of the roaring 20's it was believed the Undead would rule over all America. European Vampire's with occult leanings were eating up portions of the American Government and corrupting the still forming minds of the nation. Vampires whose names were lost to history, but with magic on their side slid into modern society unnoticed. Decisions in the country began to be made with haste. Everyone was caught in the storm of decisions from the shadows of Captital Hill. All this came to an end in the seventies, Watergate and other scandals called into action a wider more inclusive look at the inner workings of American Government.

Vampires themselves were dragged into the light of day only in the figure of speech as many were sent out of the nation. To the supernatural population who live in America, the fear of another Undead Uprising is as real as Christian's fear of The Rapture. It'll happen when it happens. That unnamed fear exists in Wolf Creek to this very day. For Jess and Hadley, there were no thoughts of an Undead Uprising as they ate slice after delicious slice of extra cheese Pineapple and Pepperoni pizza. Greasy and scrumptious the two teenagers devoured it while giggling over the game. Their team had lost. Which was to be expected since they benched Corey Thomas, the best QB they had.

The pair sat in a lime green booth at the local Pizza Parlor. The building was as old as many of the buildings in the town. White painted walls, a color scheme of Italian colors have the open area of the restaurant a nice and cozy atmosphere. Many of the attendees of the game were in the place to kick back and lick their wounds with a nice pizza and cherry coke.

Jess wiped her bright blue fingernails with a napkin while Hadley sipped her Diet Coke. Jess always could feel the eyes of the boys on her, it almost felt like ethereal hands sliding over her skin, she didn't hate it but she didn't like it either. But as she pulled her shoulder length pink hair up into a ponytail held in place by a red ribbon she tied tight. She placed her swan-like neck on display. Hadley watched her, the thin fingers effortlessly tying the ribbon in place, knowing if she tried it either would look messy or come undone the moment she finished. Looking behind Jess she saw three of the boys from the game watch her with eyes that made Hadley look down at the half finished pizza nervously.

"The dudes behind you are looking again," Hadley whispered, her voice soft and thick with the accent of the North. Jess cocked an eyebrow before looking over her shoulder at them. They all fidgeted and quickly looked away.

"Hads they never stopped and it's not looking, it's staring and maybe they are looking at you, ever thought of that?" Jess asked and smirked as Hadley's face blossomed pink with embarrassment. Jess envied her friend's natural beauty. She had spent an hour with concealer and foundation to pull off this level of beauty but she knew Hadley wasn't wearing anything but pink lip balm and the blue skin paint on her cheeks. That natural glow and those eye lashes were all her. Even the honey blond hair, natural. Jess shook her head and sipped her own Diet Coke.

"It's weird." Hadley said after a moment.

"It's creepy. Any minute now one of them will offer me a ride to go cow tipping and I'll ..." Jess said dramatically feigning her indecision with a head dip and hand pressed to her forehead in mock distress.

"Laugh it off and come over to mine so you can smoke weed and no one will know," Hadley finished

"Of course. If my parents knew it would be..." Jess started

"Off to boarding school at in Switzerland where only the best girls go to be..." Hadley trailed off enjoying their made up impression of what Jess' parents were like

"Lobotomies for everyone!" Jess sang loudly and the entire restaurant looked at her and she couldn't help but laugh which got everyone laughing. It was a normal Friday night at the pizza parlor until the door opened and it stepped inside.

Vampires naturally draw attention to themselves, not with sweet scents or a chill to the space around them. But with a level of grace on parallel with a cat. The one that walked in, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible only stood out more. Dressed in a white as snow hoodie that covered his head and sizable Afro, and baggy jeans with nice shoes. He didn't match the flannels and t shirts or simple fall dresses people in the parlor wore. You could practically feel the city coming off him.

Jess saw him first and nudged Hadley who turned to look and her eyes widened. Strangers rarely came to the town, occasionally passerby's on their way to Seattle or Canada took a wrong turn in the town but never went this far in. The young man walked to the counter where Maggie Wiesel looked at him unsure of what to do. Maggie is tall as a as cornstalk, all height and freckles dressed in the white waiter button down and black skirt with thin brown hair and large doe eyes. She looked afraid as most fairies were around Vampires.

"I'm trying to find Moon Academy, can you give me some directions," a deep voice asked from the hoodie. Maggie to her credit didn't scream. But she looked three inches from a heart attack.

"We....well we sell pizza and soda floats..." Maggie stammered and it was here she noticed all conversations had stopped. Everyone was watching them. The Vampire either wasn't paying attention or didn't care. He just thought of what she said and ordered.

"Can I have a root beer float with sprinkles and directions to the Moon Academy please," he asked and reached into his back pocket to grab his wallet and a hand grabbed his.

"Marc leave him be....he's just paying." Maggie stammered as Marc Hollis. A muscular bull of a man from the wood mill held the Vampire's wrist with a grip that would hurt a normal person.

"What if he has a gun? Or something worse," Marc asked and Hadley felt her heart plummet as she realized it wasn't Vampire related prejudice that caused Marc to act, but simple Racism. Jess could see Hadley about to do something stupid and grabbed her hand. Hadley looked at her best friend with a look of her own and the two had an unspoken conversation.

"Sir it's just my wallet, if you want to you can grab it for me." The calm voice said and Marc had had it. He yanked the boy back from the counter and all five foot two inches of him was air born. Maggie screamed as the boy maneuvered mid air and landed on his hands and feet. Before he could do anything else Hadley was standing in front of him.

"Marc have you lost your damn mind," she demanded. Jess let out and exasperated sigh and took one last look at her pizza she knew she wouldn't get to finish and slid out of the booth to stand next to her friend. All their lives she had been the one to make sure anyone who dared to pick a fight with Hadley didn't walk away without a missing tooth or a clump of hair.

"Hadley this doesn't concern you. It concerns me and that ...colored boy," Marc amended what he was going to say at the end of but the reality of it just made Hadley even more mad.

"Seriously Marc its 2020, if he wants to buy a root beer float with sprinkles it's ok for him to be gay!" Hadley said and Jess guffawed and stared at her friend wondering if she was insane. Hadley crossed her arms over her chest and the boy stood and started to contradict that but Jess patted him on the back and shook her head.

"I don't have a problem with gay people," Marc spat glancing at Marvin and Barry the gay couple who own the wood carving store. Both men looked at him with narrowed eyes. The husbands bought wood from Marc to use for their store, their watchful gazes was clearly affecting his fervor as Marc went red in the face.

"You sure cause I doubt it's because he's black you thought he had a gun or worse in his back pocket right?" Jess chimed in loud enough people couldn't pretend not to notice. Marc's frown grew as he looked around the room for some support. No one spoke but the African Americans were watching him very closely.

"Marc we are gonna buy this nice man a root beer float and show him the way to Moon Academy. And you're gonna go show your wife and your kid you're a decent man." Hadley said looking at an embarrassed Kim and their little girl who was drawing on the placemat with crayons.

Marc didn't say a word just stomped over to his wife and grab his daughter and carry her out in one arm while pulling his wife in the other out the glass door.

"You forgot to pay!" Maggie shouted finding her voice and the room burst into clapping and cheering.

"Are we paying for them two SuperGirl?" Jess grumbled as she looked at the table and calculated up how much that would cost.

"No, we are. With losing us as buyers he's gonna need his money. We don't buy from racists." Barry said as he walked to the counter and a stunned Maggie looked at him.

"All that, the girls pizza and cokes and that boy's root beer float, as well and me and Marvin's dinner." Barry said and Hadley smiled and let out the air she had been holding at trying to appear confident infront of Marc. Hadley and Jess turned to look at the confused Vampire who looked from one girl to the other.

"Look Hadley, you've finally left a man speechless. I taught you well." Jess said hugging her best friend and Hadley looked at the boy who smiled back at her.

"I'm not..." the boy started and Hadley waited as Barry came to stand next to three teens.

"Gay? Oh we know, but we can't have anyone figuring out you're a newly made Vampire, can we?" Barry said handing him his float and the trio walked over to a waiting Marvin who looked tired as the four joined their booth.

"Honey, he's a bit old for adoption." Barry joked and Marvin stage laughed before looking at the trio.

"Hadley you really need to be more careful. You were lucky Marc is well...Marc. Other people might have pushed it at being talked down to by a teenager." Marvin said as he looked at Hadley solemnly. Hadley opened her mouth to speak but Barry silenced her.

"You can't forget there are two sides to this place. Our side where a frightened fairy is outback having a smoke break. And their side where an angry racist is telling his friends about the unusual black kid in town. We adults know how to handle it, you tweens don't. Though between us you did a damn good job." Barry concluded

"I'm confused." The boy said and all four eyes were on him.

"Well of course you are silly, you were probably born what a few weeks ago?" Marvin asked and Jess and Hadley looked at each other.

"I'm 17 in a month," the boy declared and Barry snorted while Marvin looked at him.

"We mean you came out of the grave a few weeks ago." Barry offered and the man tilted his head in confusion.

"Oh shitbiscuits." Jess said and Hadley looked at her confused.

"You don't know you're dead do you?" Marvin asked and the boy just gaped at them. And it was clear the soon to be 17 year old had no idea wasn't going to turn a year older.

"Someone call David. He's the only one whose ever met a Vampire before now. He'll know what to do." Barry said and everyone looked at Hadley who was already dialing


	7. The End Of Dreaming

Inside the Dream Prison

Day four of not sleeping had finally taken its toll on the 17 year old round boy as he sat in his living room. Dressed in a white shirt and plaid boxers over his pale legs, Jon sat as still as possible. The large gray television was showing "Beavis and Butthead" but the pearl white wall behind the television was gushing blood. More and more of it was pushing out of gashes in the white painted plaster as Jon tried to focus on the colorful cartoon on the screen. The metallic smell of it was nauseating but he just pressed his hands to his thighs and followed the dialogue of the episode. The cold liquid was flooding the ground, it was ankle deep now as he sat completely still. Afraid to interact with anything around him.

"If I don't acknowledge it nothing will hurt me." He said to the open air of the living room. It should feel familiar but he wasn't sure if the furniture was the same as it had been the day before. The bookshelf was painted black, but he was sure it had been a normal wood shelf the day before. His eyes darted to it as the blood gushed more and more, he looked to his left and saw the dense woods that had grown inside what should have been the kitchen. He felt tears burn his tired eyes but he shook his head and turned his eyes back to the tv. Focusing on the screen had kept him from succumbing to the living room and it's temptation to accept what was happening.

The screen was black. In the seconds he had paid attention to something else, his window to reality had been stolen away from him.

"No no nooooo," he shouted as he rose from the couch and tried to make his way to the television. But every step he took, he sank deeper and deeper into the blood until by the time he was close enough to reach the circular knobs of it he was almost submerged in the pond of blood. He kept his lips sealed shut as he tried to pull himself up by the tv but his wet fingers slipped on the metal legs of it as he felt something pulling roughly on his feet. It was like the fingers of a metal hand that cut into the skin of his feet. He opened his mouth to scream and the blood filled it not allowing any sound to come out at all. He tried to look down but saw nothing but red.

"I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming." He repeated to himself over and over but he couldn't be sure as he was dragged lower and lower. The red turned to black as his oxygen burned away to a fire inside his lungs as he felt his body begin to shut down. His fingertips were numb, the fingers in his foot were no longer anything more than a hard pinch.

"Why can't I just die." The thought came out of nowhere inside his mind. He didn't feel shame in thinking it anymore. He was so tired, his friends thought he was crazy. His parents ignored him or pretended he wasn't growing new wounds every day. Pete had stopped coming to school after the black eye selfie. He was alone in this living hell and all he wanted was to make it stop.

"Why not make it stop yourself," the voice answered in his mind.

"Cause it's too much," he thought back. His imaginary friend was the only person who talked to him now and he wondered if 17 was too old for one.

"You're being dragged to hell, you do realize that right," the voice responded

"Maybe I'll die there." Jon thought back and then he felt it. A hand grabbed his, a strong male hand grabbed his and his descent slowed as whatever was pulling him recognized the resistance.

"We are not dying in Hell you cock," the voice thought and Jon's eyes snapped opened as he looked into the eyes of older Jon. The man was falling with him above him, he wore the same t-shirt and plaid boxers as he did. He grabbed the other hand as his older self gritted his teeth and looked past Jon at whatever was below him holding his feet.

"It's you!" Jon thought and older Jon winked at him as he pulled Jon up. Dresha gripped Jon's feet no longer wearing the guise of the spider woman. Her blue hair floated around her face as Jon gazed at her.

"Yes it's me. I don't know how you're doing this but you summoned me to save you and that means you don't want to die so let's get you out of here before she kills both of us." Older Jon said inside his mind and Jon nodded before shaking and kicking at the woman. She grinned up at the two men and let go of Jon's feet and floated lower into the dark below them as the two men began to swim up toward the surface.

In the woman's place a massive, monstrous head appeared. It's face was that of a reptile, scales the color of night and two large yellow eyes with black slits. It's mouth open as rows of fangs could be visible as it moved to swallow both of them. Jon didn't look back. He watched the elder more muscular version of himself fade as he was left alone to save himself. His mind was tired, his limbs were exhausted from the pulling but he didn't stop. He refused, he knew he was dreaming now so the fear of dying of oxygen deprivation was gone. He applied logic to the situation, as the blue became red he knew he just had to keep going.

The head always just so close, a few times it snapped closed almost getting him but not quite. A hard slap hit his cheek and snapped him out of the dream. He was in his living room, safe and sound with Pete crouching in front of him. Their eyes met, and Jon saw the bruises on his olive skinned handsome face. A busted lip, a broken nose and a chunk of his right ear was missing. But Pete was intent on checking Jon for bruises.

"Pete what, what happened to you," Jon asked as he felt those soft warm hands turn his head this way and that.

"Dresha told my dad I'm gay and he didn't want a fag like me around. So he tied me to my bed and ..." Pete stopped talking as tears slipped out of his open eyes. Jon pulled him into a hug. A tight all encompassing hug, he whispered apologies and words he thought were helpful but all of it was beyond him. So he just said whatever came into his mind. Pete held him back, finding safety in a touch that wasn't his father's.

"It was Days Jonny, days he would get tired and sleep and then it would start again. All I could think about was what If you were dead, cause of..." Pete tried to say it but had to yank himself away from Jon to save him from the vomit that poured from his mouth. Jon rubbed his back, focused on the muscles there and not on what he was saying. It was the only way he could keep it together as he registered it.

"Dresha told him?!" Jon asked? Pete nodded and the two went to the kitchen so Jon could get him a glass of water. The vomit could wait. He remembered the woman in his dream was like Dresha a decade older. It all fit. But as Pete drank his glass of water Jon wondered if the older Jon was the real him, if that were true then what is he. What was Pete? Pete seemed better after the water and before he knew what was happening Jon stepped into his personal space.

Pete held his breath as Jon placed one hand on his chest and steps up on his tip toes and kisses Pete. As their lips touched Jon focused on it. He felt something tremble inside him. He kissed him harder, pressing the tip of his tongue against those lips. The lips he dreamed of kissing many times and felt them open and he slipped his tongue past them and met Pete's.

"Oh enough I'm gonna vomit if I keep watching this." Dresha shouted from their right and the pair turned in sync to look at her. Dresha stood in the living room, her hair long and fire engine red, her green eyes watching them. She wore a long black dress with black boots.

"I have to hand it to you. You figure out I'm the bad guy here and you try to jump his bones. How pathetic are you? Seriously?" She spat crossing her arms with a look of disgust.

"What is she talking about," Pete asked looking at Jon. Jon felt the tears coming but bit down on his bottom lip to keep them from falling.

"You dream boy are not real. You're just a figment of our imagination with one purpose. Make him vulnerable. And you've done that amazingly but Ken Doll, it's time to put you back in your box." Dresha said and pulled a knife from the air around her. She rushed for Jon but Pete moved faster. He grabbed a pan from the dish rack and hit the knife out of her hand and then swung it again for her head. She whipped back and then launched forward Pete and Jon ran out of the kitchen as she smashed against the dishwasher by the sink.

Together they ran for the stairs and were half way up them when a hand reached between the rungs and grabbed Jon's foot and pulled him off balance. He fell backwards as if in slow motion. His eyes were on Pete's back as he made the top of the stairs and turned. Pete's eyes went wide as his face contorted in horror as he watched Jon fall back and land with a loud snap on his shoulder.

Jon screamed in agony at the feeling of the broken bones of his arm. He rolled onto his back as he tried to breathe through the pain but it hurt so much. Dresha walked around the stairwell and looked down at Jon smirking.

"I don't know how you took control of Pete here but it won't matter. I'm going to kill you and he'll fade right back into my imagination. Like a bad dream should." Dresha said as she picked up the knife and raised it above her head. She plunged it down towards Jon's heart.

The blade tore through Pete's flannel shirt, skin, bone and lung as he tackled her back away from Jon.The two hit the tile floor hard. Pete choked on blood that was filling his mouth. Fresh from the fall Dresha rose and grabbed the hit of the blade in Pete's back and making sure Jon was watching turned it clock wise. Pete writhed and screamed from the pain of it. The sound of his screams made her laugh and ignore the pain she was in. She looked at Jon as he crawled toward them. His arm limp dragging at an angle as he moved across the living room floor.

"You here for your boyfriend? But I'm not done with him yet. Just give me one more turn." She said as she turned the knife back the other way and Pete whimpered and screamed a new at the fresh pain. Releasing the blade she stepped back and watched Jon as he reached the body.

"Pete I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault," Jon cried as he pulled the young man up so he was holding him. Pete's eyes were empty of all life as blood ran down his chin. Jon tried to shake him gently, to feel for a pulse but as he did it the wall of blood stopped gushing. Dresha vanished into the shadows of the living room and Jon was alone with his love.

"I don't know what to do. Pete don't leave me alone here," Jon whispered as he kissed the lips of the boy he loved and felt no warmth there at all.

"Jon, we don't have much time. You have to do exactly what I say," Older Jon's voice said in his mind.

"You left me in the water," Jon said out loud and older Jon sighed before explaining.

"She pulled me out, and she will again if we don't become one person. You know we are one right, so I need you to pull that knife out of Pete and do what I say right now." older Jon said and Jon grabbed the handle and closed his eyes, pulled with all his strength and felt the blade come free of the body. Pete exploded in a shower of white light that flew away in all directions. As Jon watched them fly away he heard voices, many male voices in different states of agony fill the room. The gashes in the walls grew in all directions becoming cracks that spread along it.

"Jon she's gearing up to kill us, I need you to take that knife and stab yourself in the heart." Older Jon said and as he spoke chunks of the wall were torn free with the second floor of the house and above them was a thunderstorm. Lightning crackled along the black clouds and when the light from it burst Jon could see shadows of people in the clouds.

"Why why would I do that?!" Jon Shouted his voice thick with emotions and fear.

"Because if you don't go away I can't live, I'm sorry Jon. Two of me can't exist at the same time and ..." before Older Jon could finish Jon stabbed himself in the stomach. The pain was searing. After days of dreamed up pain at Dreaha's hands Jon thought he would be used to it but as he pulled the knife out and stabbed himself again it was new all over again. The pain stole his ability to think as he heard himself say "I'm sorry" over and over. Above his head the storm was turning into a maelstrom as the voices grew louder and louder.

Jon tried to focus on the one voice that mattered, the sound of his real self promising him together they would end this nightmare. Jon felt himself grow dizzy as a bolt of lightning touched down and the tv exploded in all directions.

"I'm almost there Jon be strong and do it again, I swear I'm going to make her pay for the both of you!" Older Jon screamed against the den of voices and the storm as Jon slammed the blade through his chest. His heart was pierced and as blood poured out of his body his body began to change. Tattoos grew across his skin as his body grew tighter. Muscles grew out of the pudgy belly as he stretched and grew taller by a few inches. He choked in his own blood as he smiles with a feeling of relief as his heart gave out and restarted. Jon opened his eyes and looked up at the storm. Pulling the blade from it, he stood. A bolt of lightning exploded from the clouds aimed for him and he raised his left hand and the shield spell grew around him and the lightning ricocheted off it and struck the stairs.

"I'm back," Jon said and he looked at the floor. Pete had lain there, Jon had been there. All of it felt so real even if it hadn't been. A immeasurable sadness hurt deep inside his chest as he waited. He knew her pride wouldn't allow her not to show herself. It didn't take long for the the storm clouds to calm and for her to appear before him.

"So clever, all this time I was working on destroying his sanity you were slithering around finding a way back. Futile as it is, I am going to kill you." Dresha said the moment her boots touched the ground. Jon nodded and made a face.

"You got something in your hair." He said motioning you a spot on his head right before his hairline over his left eye.

"Why are you talking about?" Dresha said her face annoyed as she felt something crawl out of her red hair and onto her face. Her annoyance turned to panic as the insect walked along her cheek. Jon's eyes watched her as she shaking lay reached up and touched it. More red insects the size of quarters grew out of hair and ran down her cheeks. A inaudible sound came from her as she shook and tried to get the spiders off.

"You connected our minds Dresha. I saw what you fear the most same as you saw what I fear the most. though don't worry. They don't bite, I think," Jon said with a chuckle as he walked over to her and looked at her. Under the glamour of magic was a plain woman, her eyes brown, her nose a small cute one, pale pink lips. The dress became a t shirt and men's underwear.

"Please...get them off...me," Dresha begged through chattering teeth.

Jon waves a hand and the spiders fade out of their dreamed up existence. She gasps and breathes and he can't help but smile. A real smile as he pulls back and stabs her through her left breast with the blade. The moment the blade sinks in she vanished. Gone from the ruined house and he can only face palm at having been nice enough to release the fear spell.


	8. Poisoned and Cursed

Jon collapsed to his knees in the ruined living room. Tears rolled down his cheeks as feelings that weren't his clashes with his annoyance. Swallowing that small negative feeling with one that belonged to that dreamed up boy. He sniffles as he wipes at his eyes, he had let them down. His kindness of mercy had given her the time it needed to aspirate somewhere else. He could barely breathe as the sadness smashed into him like a car.

"Jon, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he choked out as he leaned forward and all the emotions that belonged to that scared teenager drowned him in a overwhelming downward spiral. Dressed in that t shirt and those plaid boxers, he knew his pain was now his pain. That the life he had begged him to end for his existence had to amount to more than this failure.

"I promise you I will end this." He said and wondered if a dreamed up ghost could hear him. Shaking himself like a zebra after a rain he rose and looked at the maelstrom. His mind set, his fingers opened and closed as he felt more himself. The feelings of sadness receded like waves and he opened his mouth as relief washed over him.

"I don't know if you're still here inside me. But I hope what I do next makes you smile or feel like stabbing your self was worth it." Jon spoke as he raised his hands heavenward and spoke the words of a spell.

"Serpent in the garden / I summon you / Sun in the sky / I beg of you / Earth beneath me / I call to you / Grant me Purchase / Air in my lungs / I breathe you out / Show me the way / Serpent in the garden / I find you / Night unbound / I bind you / Sun behind Clouds / I uncover you / Earth shaking beneath me / I calm you / Grant me purchase"

At the start of the spell the thunder became more furious, it sounded like horses in the belly of a ship frightened and tormented. The screams of the souls caught in that storm became deafening. But he didn't stop as a gale of wind swept through the living room. He felt her, the presence of her in that storm as he did in the ground beneath him. His hands grew cuts from invisible blades, but his voice became a brass sound as each syllable challenged her magic. His tattoos began to glow a radiant shade of violet as he invoked them. His pupils grew as his magic released itself from the spells running across his skin, swallowing up the irises and growing until his entire visible eyes were as black as pitch. By the time the request for purchase had been spoken, it had been granted.

Lightning in three bolts touched down upon the remainders of the made up home and destroyed the brick and plaster, the stairwell caught fire. The blood that had grown brown and congealed seemed to rejuvenate and turn red with life again. All of this Jon felt but could not see, all he saw was the blackness of the empty space he had been kept for so long. Minutes, hours, days he could suddenly feel the passage of time his body had been denied as her spell crumbled and broke around his Magic.

Lowering his hands as his magic reversed its paths and came back to his body. He blinked and his eyes were normal again as the lights across his body faded. The storm was gone as was the house and in its place was a simple wooden door with a brass knob. Walking barefoot around the door he saw that it was a simple upright door. Coming back to the front of it, he sighed inwardly wishing that the spell had just brought her to him. But magic was never straightforward, always twists and turns and curls. He held the knob and turned it and the door opened inward instead of outward and he walked into it.

The room he stood in was bright pastel pink. The walls were pink, the ceiling white with a crystal chandelier hanging low over a cherrywood table set with an ornate tea set. A four tier cake tray with an array of bite sized cakes looked mouth watering to him. Sitting at the table Pete and younger Jon were talking animatedly to each other while Dresha sat at the head of the table, disheveled. The hilt of the blade jutting out of her chest, her blood flowing slowly down her chest and belly.

"Dear God, Alice and Wonderland? Could you be more cliche?" Jon asked as he pulled out the empty metal chair and sat in it. Dresha watched him but said nothing as the two teen boys took no notice of the adults and instead were talking. Jon couldn't hear what they were saying but smiled all the same.

"It's not cliche it's vintage, something your preppy ass wouldn't know anything about. Now before you start slinging spells at me, can we parlay?" Dresha asked as she attempted to sit up right but slumped back against the chair.

"Parlay? Me and you? Ok pop quiz, was that blade cursed or poisoned?" Jon asked as he looked at the cake set with lust in his eyes. Each cake was like an art piece, frosting and sprinkles. He wanted one so bad but knew better.

"Both." Dresha admitted and Jon smirked.

"And you wanted to Parlay now that you're dying." He said as he kicked back and put his bare feet on the table. She looked at them and made a disgusted face to which he splayed his toes and curled them just to annoy her.

"I wanted to parlay because let's face it we'll both die here. Do you want to die here?" She asked and he frowned as if thinking about it.

"I can get you out of my spell and you can cure me of the two afflictions I inadvertently cast on myself. Then we can never see each other again and," he cut her off.

"Robert Patterson can give me a blow job. Oh come off it, you lost at your own game and now you want me to clean up your mess when honestly all I want to do is eat you. It's been days since I've been in this spell which you know and I'm sure you know why I'm not dead." He finished as he picked up one of the cupcakes and smashed it on the table. A centipede scrambled out of it and he flipped her off.

"Even now, you're full of ways to kill me." He said as he rose from the table. The two boys faded out of existence and he ignored how that made him feel as he came around the table and stood over her.

"I should have used Black Widows" he said as he grabbed the blade and she grabbed his hand her smile showed he was right as she pulled him close.

"If I die you die, is that what you want?" She demanded and opened his mouth and bit into her neck. He shook his head tearing skin as she screamed the warmth of the blood on his tongue was eclipsing reason as he reared back. He looked at the room, the light of chandelier had died and the room was lit by their magic only.

"How do I get out." He asked looking at her as he pulled the knife free.

"Take me with you." Dresha demanded as she pressed a hand to the bite. Her blood was leaking between her fingers. He slashed her throat and pressed his mouth to the wound, her blood filled his mouth and he thought of the poison in it. He sucked hard on it as she slapped the table, slapped his hand. He chucked at her tapping out as he used the last vestiges if his self control to stop.

"Now we're even. Where is the exit," he demanded as he slumped back into his chair.

"You don't care you just murdered yourself?" She asked

"You're not dead yet so I have at best thirty minutes of life left. Now where is the exit, the cure has to be at the exit or you would have taken it. If only I can get you out then clearly you want me alive. Now for the last time before I start telling you about that one time I ate a boy. Where is the fucking exit," Jon asked as he felt slightly nauseous and his vision began to blur.

"You clever boy," she said looking at him grinning a bloody smile. Jon rolled his eyes and stood up, a bit shaken but otherwise fine for now. He held a hand out to Dresha who took it and as she did his magic courses through her body. The chest, neck and throat wounds magically healed from the contact. She closed her eyes for a moment as her skin and veins sewed shut and she allowed him to pull her to her feet. He jerked his hand away and waited. She rubbed her throat and glared at him.

"What? Are you expecting a thank you!?" She shouted and he opened his mouth to say something rude and closed it keeping those words bottled up.

"Lead the fucking way to the fucking exit before I eat you and die full." He barked and she looked offended.

"You are a little shit aren't you?" She asked as she walked toward the wall and as she moved closer to it another wooden door appeared that wasn't there before.

"Deal with it."'he snapped and together they walked through the door and on to the next place.


	9. The End is Here

The pair entered a ruined home. Walls with chipped paint, carpet stained with long dried blood. Dust covered photos showed a family of four. Jon looked at Dresha, her body rigid a frown on her face as she looked on ahead. He walked to the wall of photos and saw a large man with a skinny, pretty wife and two daughters. One smiled at the camera while the younger one looked solemn. The two girls were as different as night and day. One blonde and happy, the other dark haired and sad.

"Where are we," he asked the photo and Dresha walked beside him and looked at the photo.

"The exit, even my powers can't change the hardest way out of my mind. Everyone has a place in their minds where the darkest moments happened. I hid the cure here because to get it I have to be able to face what I did." Dresha said her voice raw and quiet with emotion.

"Shouldn't it be easier for you. You've gotten out numerous times." Jon asked looking at her and the woman smiled bitterly.

"It never gets easier." And with those words she walked on down the hall and he followed. The house was dark, a musty smell of decay and rot filled the stale air. He let her lead them into a living room covered in dust and he saw parts of the room were burned. There was blood splattered across the wall behind the tv like in his dream. She looked at it with glassy eyes, her lips slightly parted as she walked towards it. Her movements stilted as If she were a puppet.

"Dresha...I don't think it's that way." Jon called to her as he felt it. The pull of magic, it was as if a magnetic current was running across his body. He gritted his teeth against it as the gashes in the wall stretches and opens. Thin trickles of blood leak out down the stained paint.

"I can hear them." Dresha said in a voice barely above a whisper. Jon couldn't hear anything but the pull was getting stronger, he took a step back.

"What do you hear," Jon gasped as he felt his heart beat faster as the magic in the room seemed to amplify with every step Dresha took closer to it.

"The voices of the boys I killed and sealed in this wall. They want me again. They all want me to be with them like before and I don't...want to." Dresha whispered and she raised her hands as she got closer and closer to the wall. Jon realized the gashes were at the same level as her hands. He ran forward, panic filling him as he felt the pull of the wall explode around him but he had to do something.

Dresha's eyes rolled back in her head so only the whites showed as she was inches from the wall. Her mind clouded by memories and magic. She didn't see Jon as he slammed into her from the right. But the pain was jarring enough to bring her back to herself as the two hit the ground.

"Marcire!!" He shouted at the wall as pain courses through his right side. The blood trickles turned black as the area around the wall turned green and brown. Aging as if years were happening to it in seconds. Dresha lay still, her eyes on the two rotting wounds. Jon sat up and looked at her, then at the wall. Her words in his head giving him a sickening feeling that this wasn't the worst thing that happened in this house.

Present Day

David has gotten the keys from a bored looking seventeen year old boy who acted as the night doorman for the apartment building. He had taken the elevator, the mirror to mirror four sided box showed him himself at different angles. It had been a quiet trip up to the seventh floor. As he looked at himself, five foot eight inches tall in his deer skin leather jacket over his flannel shirt and and jeans. He wondered what it was like to be her in this elevator. He tilted his head to the left and imagines her. Heels pressing her up higher than he stood, her calm face as she moved through the building that felt like home. When the mirror in front of him slid apart at the center and he walked out. He imagined her doing it.

He had done that all the way to the door he had opened imagining her. Profiling her as he had any victim that came across his desk at the Wolf Creek Police Department. He had listened to the numbers of heartbeats as he passed each door to a different apartment. At her's he heard nothing but the soft hum of different electronic devices. He sighed as his wolf rose up through the metal physical division of his being. His wolf a large white and brown creature that had lived inside him since he had been a child pressed on the walls of his flesh merging with it and causing short curled claws to pierce his finger tips. His eyes grew larger and became as white as snow. His ears burned as they stretched and grew into wider human ones but could hear far better.

It was the reason his chief had told him to come alone. The freedom to use every thing at his disposal to get answers. He breathes in the scent of the room once the door is shut and the small chain slid in place locking it. David looked at the room as he inhaled again. He could smell older living bodies, the bitterness of alcohol. He looked at the space two steps ahead of him. He assumed these were the parents who refused to go farther, refused to see their daughter as she had truly lived. He walked through the imagined image of two grieving middle aged people. The image like a shadow to him as he knew no details. He walked on and smelled two more scents he assumed were the police from the scent of greasy food and gun oil. He walked where they had. His eyes on the walls. The furniture . They had been in every room but the bathroom, he raised one eyebrow and entered it. The space was tiny, just enough room for the toilet and a small sink with a cabinet beneath next to the shower that thankfully had a door keeping the water in.

His mind felt it first. A wrongness in the small room. He growled low in his chest as he crouched down and reached out to the cabinet beneath the sink. The space there was causing his wolf to howl loud inside his body as he tried to open the small wooden white doors but his fingers reached an invisible wall. Confused he pressed his open palm to the wall that felt like standing water he couldn't pierce the surface of. He raised his hand up til his hand moved forward and he himself slammed against the invisible wall. Two of his fingers smashed against the faucet. Sending shocks of pain through his hand.

"Fuck!" He shouted as he braced himself against the countertop of the bathroom and pulled himself up. His fingers once broken were already healing as he turned and looked out of the bathroom doorway. What was this witch hiding? He shot a text to his partner Prem as he did on every case they worked separately. The two stayed in contact no matter what as partners did.

him

Prem

His work wife really cared about him he thought as he put his phone back in his pocket. A ripple in the metaphysical space outside of the bathroom got his attention. It was as if the magic of the apartment was being upset. Frowning he walked out into the living room and continued down the hallway to the bedroom. He took off his jacket as his hair began to grow longer. Leaving it on the couch he looked on down the shirt hallway. More of the Wolf was bleeding into his human features. The animal inside him was readying him for danger. David's teeth grew into long fangs as he entered the messiest bedroom he had ever been in. The invisible waves of magic were were swirling and crashing against each other the more he got into the room. He looked around, trying to see what was causing these metaphysical waves to press against his body.

The hairs on his neck stood on end as he saw a bolt of static run over a dated movie poster. Walking towards it across books and clothes causing him to stumble a bit. He could smell that electrical after burn that was caused by magic use. A low disembodied scream began to reverberate from the space the movie poster hung. Snarling David squares his feet. Baring his claws at the poster ready for whatever was going to come. The poster ripped in half and as if the rip was skin, blood shot forth splattering him. He covered his face as the warm, fresh blood propelled out of the poster covered the deputy. He tried to protect himself with clothes and anything he could find but it just ricocheted off the items. The other posters around the room did the same and three sets of blood sprays were covering the man. He retreated from the room and slammed the door shut, and watched it swing back open as the ruined doorframe from a strong kick had couldn't hold it.

Angry and confused, David watched the streams of blood as the ground was covered by the crimson fluid. How much blood could a body hold? Whose blood was that? He wiped at his face but all he was doing was smearing it across himself.

"Fucking Witches." He shouted, losing his composure as he stomped back to the bathroom. Pulling out his iPhone he tried a button, but the phone was ruined. Looking back at that room, he couldn't help but wonder what exactly was going on.

Now, in The Dream Prison

The blood curdling scream of Dresha as her left arm was sawed through by the chainsaw wielding Lunchman filled the hallway of the ruined home. The massive fist held her hand tightly to hold her arm out as the blade sliced on through her limb. Her voice kept rising in octaves as the painful scream tore at Jon's attention. Jon had been trying to keep a pair of knives from his eyes wielded by his much taller doppelgänger when he heard it. He didn't have time to look in her direction. He tried to push the wrists away from him but the poison in his veins had done its job and he was deeply weakened by it.

"I've never fucked an eyeless corpse before, can't wait." The doppelgänger snarled and Jon gritted his teeth and aimed low. His barefoot caught balls as he kicked up as hard as he could. The resistance instantly vanished as the dreamed up version of him doubled over in pain. Jon looked down at the man thing for only a moment before he ran down the hallway for Dresha. She was trying to back up with only an arm as the massive man waved the chain saw at her. He could hear her whimpering as he grabbed a hold of her at the shoulders and pulled her out of reach as the whirling blade descended. The blade barely missed her feet as she she screamed in panic. Behind them amused laughter filled the hallway. The doppelgänger was up and walking slowly towards them.

The two Witches looked at one monster than the other and Jon had an idea. He looked into Dresha's eyes, could see her pupils dialating. He knew she would be in shock soon if she wasn't already. He patted her cheek rapidly and finally gave up at the lack of a response and slapped her. Her body jerked as she gasped a deep breath.

"You can't fall asleep Dear. You're the fucking map! Now close your eyes," Jon shouted over the sound of the chainsaw. He had a theory and his next spell would either save them or kill them if it was wrong. Releasing magic rapidly he let his magic fill the space around them as he let her fall against his front. It wasn't the words on his body that glowed in the darkened room but the symbols. Job tapped into old magic through the sigils of Anubis. He pressed his hands to the walls and sent the ambient magic into them. He closed his eyes and willed his magic to find the bodies in the walls, find their souls that were attached to the bodies and called to them. As his power lashed out in all directions moving through the walls and floor he moved all the bodies to this hallway.

Even as he knew the two monsters were almost upon them from the den of laughter and the whirring of the chainsaw he focused on their souls. There were so many. Male faces, some looking like humans, others skeletal pressed against the surface of the walls. The magic Jon manifested causes the walls to bend and stretch as open hungry mouths were visible. Their hands, their bodies pressed against the surface until it burst. The paint and plaster coming undone as the men stepped out of the walls. Jon controlled them, as much he could as they walked toward both the attackers at the back and front. The chain saw cut through dead flesh and Jon tried not to open his eyes as the acrid smell of rot filled his nostrils. Dresha cried out at the sight and she turned and buried her face against his long chest. He felt her tears soak the fabric as he continued it.

Dead hands grabbed the man with the knives and pulled. He heard his own voice from that doppelgänger's mouth as rotted fingers grabbed his jaw and pulled it free from his face. Fingers pierced flesh and the sound of ripping skin was all he could hear. He heard the chain saw drop like a sack of bricks to the ground as the zombies turned on the lunchman.

Jon opened his eyes and grabbed Dresha by her good arm and wrenched her to her feet. He dragged her along the hallway. Arms reached for them but he struck the sinking flesh of any who got close enough. The pair took the right and were in an empty hall.

"Which way," Jon shouted fully aware the zombies would come for her. He had guessed she had sealed them in the walls of this mind prison where they fed on her magic too keep it in intact. With them released the very house would soon be coming apart. Dresha was sobbing and frantically looking at everything but Jon. Jon shook her violently as he heard the shuffle of skin on carpet. But what made him look behind her was the sound of the chainsaw whirring to life.

"Dresha I need you to," was all he got out before the blade came down on her shoulder and blood sprayed across his face as the massive blade dug through her chest and he watched her mouth open in terror but no sound came out. He let go and didn't watch her ruined body fall as he ran down the hallway. Trying every door along the way. Fully aware he had no idea what the exit would look like.

Every bedroom looked really looked the same to him. His nerves, his anxiety, his fear all were spiking. By the fifth room he froze and looked at it. Really looked at it, the placement of the furniture, the bed not being made it was all the same as the last four. Taking a chance he stepped inside the room and closed the door.

The sound of silence was so loud after the last few minutes of chaos that Jon could barely stand it. He looked around the dark room, his lips quivering as his fingers shook. He ran to the book shelf and pulled books free, hoping for a secret switch. Once all that was there was a pile of books open at his bare feet he let loose a shout of frustration and pulled at his hair. He was going to die here. At that moment he heard loud beating on the wood of the door. The zombies were there, craving his magic now that Dresha's was gone.

Taking deep breathes he gave the room another cursory sweep. His sweat was running down his face into his beard as he looked down at the books and his eyes widened as he saw that each book had a word on the page. Not words but one word that stretched both pages. He fell to his knees, his hands arranging the books to form a sentence.

"The End is Here" many books had the same words. But he shoved those out of the way and nodded frantically at the message. Standing he looked at the door. The zombies were becoming more ferocious as more of their bodies were reanimated. He turned his back on the door and looked at the wall. He searched it with his hands, finding a seam for the wallpaper he peels it back and sees the door. The metal knob that hadn't been there before was there now. He turned it and the door opened inward.

Present Day- the real world

Cursing his blood tainted senses, David felt the Wolf recede back into his body as he became fully human again. The blood had stopped running and the screams had stopped as well. In its place was a silence that confused and worried him more. Turning away from the room he thought of his options. Walking to the bathroom he turned on the light and saw himself. Dried blood covered almost every surface of himself.

Weighing his options he peeled his shirt up and over his head. With slippery fingers he undid his shoe laces and pulled them off and the his pants followed. His mind was on the bodies he wasn't seeing in the apartment. There were two scents he couldn't identify but his mind wasn't letting it go. He figured one of the two was Dresha and the other he couldn't guess. But he assumed it was the culprit of her disappearance. Standing naked in the bathroom, he knew it was unprofessional to use her shower but didn't care. He couldn't think about anything else but the blood and his desire to kill with it on him. Gathering his clothes he walked naked through the apartment and found a small two in one laundry and washing machine. Tossing them inside shoes and all he then a scoop of laundry detergent in and started the wash.

Getting in the shower he started it and let the cold water wash over him as he waited for the water to turn hot.

"Six scents. Four accounted for." He said in his gruff voice as he wondered if Dresha was alive or dead. Running his hands through his hair, he wondered what her parents must be thinking. Taking a bright green bar from the small hanging shelf he scrubbed at his skin. He couldn't think of the blood as anything but an omen. Someone was dead he determined from the amount of it. 

In the bedroom a hand grew out of the blood covered in tattoos. Another hand followed the first as if Jon was pulling himself out of a pool. His bloody head parted the surface and he was finally back in the real world. The cure had been the exit. The exit had been a small pool of blood done in the style of a medical cross. He has fallen head first into it when his body gave out and had come up for air in the bedroom.

As he finally freed himself, Jon felt dizzy but much better than he had in the dream world. He stood, the t shirt and boxers sticking to his flesh. All he wanted was a shower. Stomping down the hallway he muttered to himself about the night from hell. So lost in his pity party he didn't notice the shower was running until he was in the presence of David until the glass door opened. 

Steam flooded the bathroom as Jon saw the man. Saw his olive skin and mixed breeding features. His eyes were on him. But Jon's eyes were going lower, seeing the tattoos running up his side. Over one of his pectorals was waves crashing. Only his dark brown nipple wasn't covered in ink. Jon's eyes traveled lower over abs and down the V line to the long flaccid cock between David's legs. He looked back up at the man who was watching him silent and said

"Get the fuck out of the shower unless you want to wash my back."

David slid out of shower and the two men kept their distance from each other until David stood dripping wet and naked in the hallway. Jon tossed a towel at him before peeling his shirt off his body and up over his head. David had been so transfixed on Jon's undressing the towel caught him off guard. Jon hooked his thumbs through the elastic and pulled his boxers down slowly. He wondered if David was watching but at that moment all he wanted was for the salvation of a warm shower.

David has watched the muscles move under the tattooed skin and his eyes had taken every inch of the man in as Jon walked to the shower and got in. Towel secured around his waist David went to the kitchen, trying to make any sense of what had just happened. He looked at the floor and saw bloody footsteps leading to the bathroom.

"You took all the hot water!" Jon shouted but remained beneath the freezing water as the blood of his nightmare ran down the drain at his feet.

"Just hurry up so I can arrest you for the murder of Dresha Meeks," Davis shouted back.

The End of "The Dream Prison" story arc


End file.
